


Humanitis

by sabershadowkat



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:47:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 46,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4436060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabershadowkat/pseuds/sabershadowkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike comes down with a case of humanitis. <br/>Post Consequences</p>
            </blockquote>





	Humanitis

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics used from: Harry Connick, Jr; Eric Clapton; Nine Inch Nails; Bad Company; AC/DC; Chumbawumba; Keith; George Michael and the poem is by Yeats.

Part One

 

Spike turned onto his side and froze. Slowly, he reached beneath the covers and put his hand on the sheets. They were extremely wet. Frowning, he tried to remember if he had an erotic dream about Buffy again or not as he brought his hand near his nose and sniffed. It smelled like ammonia. 

The wetness he was laying in was starting to make him uncomfortable, so he threw back the covers and stood. Stalking to the bathroom to take a shower, he flicked on the light, then bent to open the cabinet to retrieve a towel. As he straightened, he saw someone standing behind him in the mirror. 

With a yelp, he spun, lashing out with his fist to connect with the person's face. But his fist connected with air. "Whoever the hell is in here better show yourself!" Spike yelled, grabbing the door and pulling it away from the wall to surprise the person behind it. No one. He yanked back the shower curtain. No one. 

He growled...or at least tried to. It came out sounding more like a child saying ‘grr.' He bent and picked up the towel he had dropped, and when he straightened he saw the person in the mirror again. This time, he only turned his head. He saw no one. 

Looking back at the mirror, he noticed that the person had a towel in his hand. The same blue one he held in his own. Spike's eyes widened as he slowly raised his hand up and saw the person in the mirror do the same thing. "Holy shit," he swore softly as he extended his hand to the mirror. When he touched it, the mirror image hand was against his own. 

Spike was seeing his reflection. 

He dropped the towel again, using his other hand to touch his cheek and watch as his reflection did the same. A grin formed on his face and he started to study his reflection with a critical eye. "So this is what you look like," he said to the mirror image. "The last time I saw you, you had brown hair." 

He let his eyes travel down his body, standing on his toes to see as much as he could. "Not bad, mate," he told his reflection. "You kept your girlish figure quite nicely." He grinned, then leaned closer to the mirror. "I forgot I had blue eyes," he said. Those blue eyes widened when the mirror by his mouth fogged up, then disappeared. 

He froze again, watching as the surface fogged over and over in a pattern by his mouth. He brought his hand up and put it over his mouth, then felt something startling. Hot air coming out of his nose, warming the side of his finger. "Bugger, I'm breathing," he said in amazement as he stepped back and looked at his chest. Sure enough, it expanded and contracted in syncopation with the warm air against his hand. 

Spike quickly slapped his hand to the side of his neck, his fingers searching for the cardioid artery, the source from which vampires drank blood on humans. It was pulsing steadily. "No," he said, this time in horror. He turned, forgetting about the shower and raced out of the bathroom. He threw on his clothes in record time, grabbed his duster and car keys, then ran out of the bedroom. 

Two hours later, he hit the Welcome to Sunnydale sign. 

With a gnawing feeling around his middle which he couldn't understand, he pulled up to the curb and shut off the car. He got out, stalked to the kitchen door and pounded on it. He saw Joyce look up from where she was sitting, startled by the loud noise, then frowned when she saw him. 

"Spike," Joyce said as she opened the door, being careful to stay out of reach. Willow and Buffy had performed the invitation-revoking spell that would keep the blond vampire out. "What are you doing here?" 

"I need to see the bloody Slayer," Spike answered. "I know she's the one who did this." 

"Did what?" Joyce asked. 

"Ouch!" Spike said in response, pushing the heels of his hands against his forehead when he felt an excruciating, sharp pain suddenly form. 

Joyce felt her maternal instinct swell. "What's wrong?" 

"It hurts," he replied. "My bleedin' head is hurting. It feels as though someone shoved a spike in my brain." 

"You have a headache?" Joyce said with amazement. "I thought vampires didn't get headaches." 

"That's just it," Spike said. "I think the Slayer turned me into a bloody human!" 

She gave him a look of amazement. "Why do you think that?" 

"Because I'm breathing, have a pulse and saw myself in a mirror," he answered, rubbing his hand across his forehead. "Also, all sorts of strange things are happening that I don't remember feeling. And can you make this bloody pain stop!" 

Joyce let go of the door and went over to the cabinet for the aspirin. She turned when she heard the door shut, then dropped the bottle when she saw Spike standing in the kitchen. 

"What?" Spike snapped when he saw her face.

"I think you're right," Joyce answered. "If you were a vampire, you wouldn't have been able to come in." 

"I've been here before," he pointed out. 

"But Buffy and Willow cast a spell so you couldn't come back in unless invited," she said. 

Spike's shoulders slumped, defeated. "Great. Just bloody fucking wonderful. I'm human." 

"Spike, don't swear," Joyce scolded, retrieving the pill bottle and getting out two aspirin. 

"Yes, mum," he said with an exaggerated sigh, then chuckled as she shook her head at him. 

"Do you know how to take these?" she asked, filling a glass of water from the tap. 

"No," Spike replied, accepting the two little pills and the glass from her. 

"Whatever you do, don't chew them," Joyce instructed. "Just put them in your mouth and drink the water. They should be washed down with it." 

He nodded, popped the pills in his mouth and began to drink. A disgusting taste was filling his mouth and he spit whatever was making it back into the glass. He made a face, then licked the back of his hand to try and get rid of the taste. "That was bloody awful," he said. 

Joyce looked at the glass in his hand and saw two slowly dissolving pills in it. "I guess we have to do this the old fashioned way," she said, taking the glass from him. 

"Do what?" Spike asked. 

"You didn't get the pills down," she replied, dumping the glass in the sink. "Your headache won't go away unless you do." She took out two more aspirin and a spoon, then went to the refrigerator. 

"How am I suppose to get them down if they taste that bad?" Spike said. 

"Like this," Joyce said, crushing the aspirin, then mixing it into a spoonful of grape jelly. She walked back over to him. "Open wide." 

Spike rolled his eyes, then took the spoon from her and swallowed the jelly. It was grainy, but it went down. "Thanks," he said, handing back the spoon. 

"You're welcome," Joyce replied. She looked down at his stomach when she heard a loud growl. "I think someone is hungry." 

"Is that what that means?" Spike said. "It's been doing that for the past half hour."

"Do you feel a sort of emptiness or gnawing in your stomach?" 

"Oh," he said, his face reflecting the realization of what was happening to him. "Yeah. So this means that I eat, right? But what?" 

"I'll fix you something, don't worry," Joyce told him. "Why don't you take a seat and I'll page Buffy." 

Spike rubbed his forehead again as he sank down onto the stool. "Thanks." 

Twenty minutes later, his headache was gone, his stomach was full and he was really enjoying the cup of hot cocoa Joyce had made for him. "You know, this tastes even better than the last time you made me some," he told the Slayer's mother. 

"Maybe your tastebuds have changed, too," Joyce said. She heard the front door open. "Buffy's here." 

"Hey, mom. What's the big surpri-" Buffy stopped suddenly as she came into the kitchen. "Spike!" She practically leapt across the room and had him pinned to the counter, just as she did the last time she found him in her kitchen, stake pressed to his chest. 

"Buffy!" Joyce shouted at the same time Spike yelled, "Slayer!" 

Joyce grabbed her daughter's arm. "Buffy, no. He's not a vampire." 

"What?" Buffy looked over at her mom, not changing her position. "Of course he is, mom. And I can't believe you invited him back in." 

"But I didn't," Joyce said. "He walked in on his own." 

"Slayer, for bloody sake, let me up!" Spike snapped as he felt a sharp pain in his back. "This hurts!" 

"Good," Buffy snapped back. 

"Buffy Summers, let him up this instant!" Joyce yelled at her daughter. Surprised at her mom's tone, Buffy did as told but kept her eye on Spike, the stake ready. 

Spike winced as he stood upright, rubbing his back. "Bloody hell, Slayer. I never knew how strong you really were." 

"What are you talking about, Spike?" Buffy asked, her patience thin. 

"I've turned into a bleedin' human, that's what," Spike told her. "And I know it has to be your fault."

Buffy snorted. "That's a good one. A vampire turning into a human. Pull the other one, why don't you." 

He grabbed her hand and smacked it against his chest. "Does a vampire do this?" Spike asked. 

Buffy's eyes widened when she felt the rise and fall of his chest and his heart beating. She moved her hand up to his neck, just as he did earlier, and felt the strong pulse of his artery, the warmth of his skin. "Oh my god, you're human." 

"Really?" Spike said sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed." 

"I have to call Giles," she said, removing her hand. Then she put it back on his chest. "This is really wiggy." 

Spike looked down at her hand and smiled. It felt so nice to have her touch him, especially since they weren't fighting. "That it is, pet." 

"I have some work to do, so I'll leave you two alone," Joyce said. "Spike, you can stay here tonight, if you'd like." 

"Thank you, Joyce," Spike replied. "And thanks for that delicious supper." 

Joyce smiled at him, said goodnight and went upstairs. Buffy rolled her eyes at Spike, then turned and grabbed the phone, dialing Giles' home number. Once done, she leaned against the wall and stared at him. He started shifting on his feet. "What's wrong?" 

"I don't know," Spike replied, grabbing his crotch. Buffy arched a brow when he did that. "There's some sort of pressure and almost like a burning." 

"I think you have to go to the...Giles? We have a situation that's beyond strange. You need to grab Wesley, because we're going to need the books for this one," she said into the phone. "I'll be at the library in about twenty minutes or so...No, you'll have to see it to believe it. Bye." 

Hanging up, Buffy looked at the uncomfortable Spike. "As I was saying, I think you have to go to the bathroom." 

"What?" Spike asked. 

"Take a leak? Use the john? Drain your lizard?" 

Spike felt his face heat up. "How do I do that?" 

"Spike, you're blushing!" Buffy blurted in surprise. He glared at her and she giggled. "Don't you remember? 

"No, now will you tell me how to do that." 

"Um, I don't know, I'm not a guy." 

"Well, get a guy over here then!" Spike snapped. 

"Ok, ok, take a pill," she said. "Now, who should I call? Xander?" 

"No, not that whelp," he told her. "Anyone but that bloody wanker." 

"Well, I only know five males - Giles, Wesley, Xander, Oz and Angel. And I don't think Angel can help you with this problem, Giles is off finding the weenie. I guess that leaves Oz," she said, picking up the phone again. "Luckily, he's over at Willow's, so he can get here in a short time...Wills? Hey, can you and Oz come over here, like now? It's an emergency...You'll see when you get here. Ok, bye." 

Spike gave her a pained look. "Now what?" 

"You hold it," Buffy answered. "Cross your legs or something." 

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang and Buffy hurried to answer it. "Good, you're here," she said, grabbing Oz's arm and pulling him into the house. "You need to show Spike how to go to the bathroom." 

"Spike?" Willow asked, confused. "Our Spike?" 

"That's the one," Buffy replied, practically dragging the werewolf to the kitchen where Spike was sitting on the stool, hunched over uncomfortably. "Spike, this is Oz." 

"Hey, man," Oz said. "Come on, I'll show you what you need to do." 

Willow and Buffy watched as the two males left the kitchen, then Buffy started to giggle. "Doesn't anything phase your boyfriend?" 

"Not really," Willow answered. "Now, tell me why Spike needs to go to the bathroom before I start to wig." 

"He's human," Buffy replied. 

Willow's eyes widened. "As in living and breathing and heart beating and eating people food instead of eating people human?" 

"Kinda freaky, huh?" 

"On a scale of one to ten, I'd say a hundred," Willow replied. "We have to see Giles."

"Already called him," Buffy said. "He and the dork are meeting us at the library as soon as Spike's done peeing." 

Willow giggled. "That sounds so silly. Spike peeing." 

"Doesn't it?" Buffy said. The two men returned to the kitchen, Spike looking very relieved causing the girls to start giggling again. 

"Oh, shut up," Spike said to Buffy. 

"Sorry," she apologized. "It's just so...Hellmouthy." 

"Can we go see your Watcher now and make this stop?" Spike whined. 

"We're going," Buffy said. "Just let me go tell my mom." 

Willow stared at Spike curiously as Buffy left the room. "Can I...?" 

"Why the bloody hell not," Spike sighed. "Go ahead, ducks." 

The red head reached her hand out and laid it carefully on his chest as Buffy did earlier. "Wow," she said when she felt his heart beat and breathing. "Does it feel weird?" 

"Your hand or my heart beat?" Spike teased. Oz chuckled. "Not as strange as being hungry or having to use the pisser." 

Willow blushed. "Um...all of the above." 

"Just wait until you get to experience the joys of taking a...doing number two," Oz stopped his crude language after seeing Willow's face become even more red. "I recommend bringing plenty of reading material." 

Spike rubbed a hand over his face. "This is too bloody much." 

"Are we all set?" Buffy asked, coming back into the kitchen. 

"I think I need to kill something," Spike muttered as the four headed out towards Oz's van. 

"Try it and you'll find yourself on the receiving end of my sta-...crap," Buffy said. "You're human. I can't do that to you." 

"Faith can," Willow said snidely under her breath. Oz gave her a look and she smiled sweetly. 

"But I can beat you up," Buffy concluded brightly. 

"I'd like to see you try," Spike said. 

Buffy grabbed him by the neck and lifted him off the ground easily, slamming him against the side of the van. He struggled against her, trying to break her grip, but found he couldn't. He kicked out at her, but it barely hurt. "What's wrong, Spike?" 

"Can't," he gasped. "Breathe." 

Buffy let him go and he started taking in big gulps of air as Willow and Oz climbed in the van. "Now you know how it feels to be a victim," she said in a low voice, then climbed in after opening the side door. 

"Bloody fucking hell," Spike swore, rubbing his throat. He climbed in behind her and shut the door. The trip to the high school was made in silence. 

 

 

Part Two

 

 

"Hello, Buffy," Wesley said as the four entered the library. "Now, what's the big emergency?" 

Buffy ignored him. "Giles!" 

Giles came out of the office where he had sequestered himself to avoid throttling the Watcher. He stopped suddenly when he saw the peroxide blond standing uncomfortably next to the Slayer. "I take it he is the, er...situation." 

"Roots and all," Buffy answered, coming fully into the room. She threw herself into a chair and started fiddling with a stake. 

"Thanks bunches, Slayer," Spike said. "You really know how to sweet talk a guy." 

"Is there no one who knows you are not the Slayer?" Wesley asked Buffy. 

"Um...I don't think Larry knows," Buffy said. "But I could be wrong." 

"It is important that the identity of the Slayer be kept secret to-to-to protect her and-and her Watcher," Wesley said. 

"Um, can we get on with my problem sometime tonight?" Spike interrupted. 

"I am sorry, but I am trying to have a word with my Slayer, if you don't mind," Wesley said. 

Spike frowned. "I thought you were her Watcher," he said to Giles. 

"Things...change," Giles replied. 

"Tell me about it," Spike said. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, then started coughing when he inhaled. Buffy snickered. 

"Smoking's bad for humans anyway," Willow pointed out as he crushed out the cigarette. "Makes your lungs all black and icky, gives you emphysema. And cancer. It can kill you. But you're already dead. Oh wait, you're not." 

"Plus, the chicks don't dig it," Oz added. 

"I think I may be missing something here," Giles said. 

"Spike here's got a case of humanitis," Buffy said. 

"I beg your pardon?" Giles said, removing his glasses. 

"He's human," Willow told him. "Oz had to show him how to go to the bathroom and everything." 

Spike groaned and dropped his head in his hands. "I think that headache is coming back." 

"My word," Giles replied. "Are you certain?" 

"No, I go to the Slayer's house every day for a little slap and tickle," Spike said sarcastically. 

"What?!" Wesley asked, looking back and forth between Spike and Buffy. 

"Oh yeah, mate, she's a great shag," Spike said, giving Wesley a wink. "All that strength and fire. Makes me feel all tingly." 

"Spike," Buffy warned. 

"And she's quite the little screamer," he continued. "I bet you'd fancy a little roll with her. But you don't look man enough to handle a Slayer. I've done two ya know." 

Spike suddenly found himself clutching his stomach on the floor, a pissed off blond standing above him. "Did that hurt?" Buffy asked sweetly. "If not, I can do it again." 

"Buffy, would you please explain," Wesley requested. He looked over at Willow and Oz who were both snickering at the peroxide blond's predicament. 

"Buffy, if Spike is-is indeed...er, human," Giles said. "Your normal methods of dealing with him should not be-be utilized." 

"But it's so much fun," Buffy said with a pout. She crouched down next to Spike. "I thought you liked it when I was violent, baby."

"Ha ha," Spike said, pushing himself to a sitting position. 

Buffy shook her head, stood and held out her hand. He just stared at it. "I don't bite...hard." Spike accepted her hand and was pulled to his feet. 

"Buffy, I reiterate, would you please explain what is going on?" Wesley asked. 

"Spike, this is Wesley, my new Watcher," Buffy said. "Wesley, this is Spike. You've probably read about him. If not, check in the index under ‘Bloody, William the." 

Wesley's eyes widened at her reference as Spike looked at Buffy for more explanation. "How did this wanker get to be your Watcher?" 

"Not by my choice," Buffy replied as Wesley started to flip through old Watcher's Diaries and Giles began handing out books for researching. "I got put through this stupid test thingy, but Giles was the one who failed and he got fired. Hence, I got Bravely Brave Sir Wesley." 

"Do I detect a bit of sarcasm, pet?" Spike asked, taking a book from Giles. 

"He's not...that...bad," she dragged out. "Well, he's no Giles. He wouldn't have lasted thirty seconds with Angel..us." 

"How is my bastard sire?" 

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Buffy told him. "Seeing as how he just walked up behind you." 

Spike whirled around and came face to face with Angel. "Bloody hell! I didn't even hear you." 

"Why are you here at all?" Angel asked in a low voice. 

"That's it, I quit," Spike said, turning back to Buffy. "Whatever it is you've cast on me, uncast it or get rid of it or whatever you do with it. Just make it go away." He then tucked the book under his arm and stormed out of the library. 

"I think he needs to switch to decaf," Willow commented from her seat on the stairs next to Oz. 

"He has a reason to freak," Oz said. "I know I did when I found I was a werewolf." 

"You freaked? I didn't know you freaked," she replied. 

"I've been told my freaking isn't too different than my not freaking," he told her. 

"I take it I missed something," Angel said. 

"According to-to Spike, he has somehow become human," Giles informed him, taking another book off the pile and handing it to the vampire. 

"I'd better go find him before he manages to get hurt and god I cannot believe I just said that like I was worried about Spike," Buffy said. She shook her head and left. 

 

 

Part Three

 

 

"Spike, are you in here?" Buffy called into the cafeteria. 

"Leave me alone." 

Buffy walked into the room, searching for the source of the voice. She saw him sitting in the corner by the window, feet up on the radiator. "What's up?" she asked, sliding onto a table next to him. 

"Do you need to get your hearing checked? I thought I told you to leave me alone," Spike said in a depressed voice. 

"Hey, what's with the frown?" 

"Slayer, I'm a bloody human, what do you think the frown is for?" 

Buffy sighed. "It can't be that bad. I mean, think of the pos. You can eat normal food, go out in the sun, not kill people." 

"What if I liked killing people?" Spike said. 

"Then we'll get you a new hobby," she answered. "How about...fishing?" He gave her a look. "Or not." 

"Listen, this is a tad bloody strange for me," he said. "I went to bed this morning a vampire and woke up in a wet bed with a reflection." 

"A wet bed?" Buffy asked. "Why would you wake up in a wet...oh." 

"Oh what?" Spike asked. "If you have a theory, please fill me in. I couldn't figure it out." 

"Trust me, you don't want to know," she replied. She slid off the table. "Well, I'm gonna go back to the library. You coming?" 

"I think I'll stay here," Spike answered. "Too much togetherness is not good for the complexion." 

Buffy laughed lightly. "You know where I'll be. But uh, don't leave. Human, vampire, dead human." 

Spike watched her walk out of the room, then turned back to the window and sighed. "For a minute there, I actually though she cared." 

 

*****

 

"Ok, this is getting ridiculous," Buffy said, slamming yet another book shut. "There is nothing about a vampire ever turned back into a human." 

"Nothing on spells that can do that, either," Willow said. "At least, that I found so far." 

"I've never heard of such thing,"Angel added. "If so, rest assured I'd be first in line." He gave Buffy a sad smile. 

"Speaking of vampires turned human," Oz said. "We haven't seen ours in awhile." 

"That makes him sound like a pet," Willow giggled. "A pet Spike. Kinda like a pet rock, only blonder." 

"Hey guys," Faith said as she came into the library. She looked at Buffy. "Tag, you're it." 

"Swell," she sighed. "I guess I'm off to slay." 

"I think we should call it a night," Giles said. "It is getting rather late." 

"Wait a moment, Buffy," Wesley said. "I shall be joining you." 

Buffy looked over at Angel and rolled her eyes. "Joy. I guess I'd better go find Spike again," she said. 

"I'll do it,"Angel told her. 

"Thanks," she replied. "Oz, you might want to give him any last minute ‘male' advice before dropping him back at my house." 

"Will do," Oz said. 

"Are you ready, Buffy?" Wesley asked, standing near the door. 

"I'm ready. ‘Night, Giles," Buffy said. 

"Goodnight," Giles replied. 

Buffy and Wesley separated from the group with a wave and Angel told Oz and Willow he'd met them at the van. Walking through the school, the vampire extended his senses, searching for the telltale heartbeat that normally led to the prey. Now, it was leading him to another vampire. Life on the Hellmouth was so strange. 

"Spike?" Angel queried, entering the auditorium. Soft piano music wafted up from the orchestra pit. 

"Imagination is funny, it makes a cloudy day sunny. Makes a bee think of honey, just like I think of you," Spike sang quietly along as he played, the only illumination coming from the small light attached to the page holder. "Imagination is crazy, your whole perspective gets hazy. Starts you asking a daisy what to do." 

Angel silently made his way down the aisle and stood at the edge of the pit, watching him. "Have you ever felt a gentle touch and then a kiss, then and then...you find it's only your imagination again. Oh well." 

Spike swayed as his fingers ran over the keys, eyes closed. "Imagination is silly, you go around willy-nilly. For example, I go around wanting you. Yet I can't imagine that you want me, too." Behind his eyes, he pictured the tiny, blond Slayer. Smiling at him, touching him, kissing him. "Have you ever felt a gentle touch, then a kiss, then and then...you find it's only your imagination again. Oh well." 

Angel looked at Spike thoughtfully. Something about the way he was singing, as if he were singing to someone in particular. And that someone was definitely not Drusilla. "Imagination is silly, you go around willy-nilly. For example, I go around wanting you. Yes I do. And I can't imagine that you want me, too." 

Spike paused and sighed. "Yes, I can't imagine that you want me, too." The final light chord faded out into silence as he sat there, the image of the woman that had been haunting him since he left Sunnydale for the second time in his mind. He had made it as far as Los Angeles before he'd given up on the kidding himself about his feelings for Drusilla. 

"Spike," Angel said quietly, not wanting to startle him. 

"How long have you been here?" Spike asked, opening his eyes and looking up at the vampire. 

"Long enough," he answered. "Who were you singing to?" 

Spike shrugged. "It's just a song." 

"Right," Angel replied. "And I'm just a vampire." 

"Did you want something, besides to annoy me?" 

"Time to go," he said. "Oz and Willow are waiting."

"What about Buffy?" Spike asked as he shut off the light, then walked out of the orchestra pit. 

"Patrol," he answered as they headed up the aisle. 

"And you didn't go with her?" 

"She can take care of herself," Angel replied. 

"I know that," Spike snapped. "But still, she can always use someone to watch her back." 

Angel looked at him. "Since when are you worried about Buffy's well being?" 

"Me? Yeah, right," he scoffed, lying between his teeth. "I just want to get back to my cute, lovable, demon self and I need her to do it." 

"Right," Angel said. "If you say so, Spike." 

"What are you implying?" 

Angel stopped and grabbed his arm just outside the doors to the school. "I think you want her for a lot more than changing you back to your worthless self." 

"And I think you've read one too many bloody sappy books," Spike retorted. "Listen, you ugly sod, I wouldn't have even come back here if this didn't happen. Do you think I want to be human?" 

"Spike, for some whatever reason you've been given a second chance at being human," Angel snarled, grabbing him by the lapels. "I'd give anything, and I mean anything," he shook him for emphasis. "To have that opportunity. Don't piss it away." 

Spike grabbed his arms and tried to pry him off, to no avail. "Damn it, let go of me." 

Angel shoved him slightly as he let go, and the peroxide blond stumbled backwards. He hit a low plant liner, falling to the ground and smacking his head against the wall. "Great," Angel said under his breath.

He bent to help Spike up, but he got slapped away. He barely felt it. "Get. The bloody hell. Away. From. Me," Spike ground out. Angel backed away and he pushed himself to his feet, hand clamped on the back of his head. Glaring at the vampire, he walked unsteadily down the stairs to where Oz's van was waiting. 

"Buffy is not going to be happy," Angel sighed, then walked to the van as well. "I'm going to go," he told the three from the open side door. 

"See ya," Oz said with a nod.

"Bye, Angel," Willow said. 

"Pillock," Spike said under his breath. 

Angel shook his head, then closed the door to the van. He watched as it drove off, hands in the pockets of his coat. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach and didn't like it. Not one bit. 

 

 

Part Four

 

 

Spike closed the kitchen door to the Summers' residence behind him and leaned back against it, eyes squeezed tightly shut. His head was pounding, the pain radiating from the large bump on the back of his head. "Bloody fucking hell," he swore once again, pushing himself from the door and over to the cabinet where he'd seen Joyce put the aspirin. 

He found the white bottle and turned the cap. All it did was make a clicking noise, not opening. He kept turning, getting more and more angry, making his head hurt worse. "Damn it!" he said loudly, turning to throw the bottle against the wall. At the last minute, he dropped it into the sink, grabbing the edge and leaning back, head towards the floor. 

"Make it stop," he begged no one in particular. He felt a tightening sensation in his throat, then his eyes filled up with water. Tears began to fall, mixed with gasping sobs. The only time he'd ever cried before was when Drusilla had left him, and he only did it after he was exceedingly drunk. But this was different, felt different. 

He didn't know how long he was there crying. When the tears finally stopped, his head was pounding even more, he couldn't breathe through his nose, but for some reason he felt much better. He picked up the pill bottle, got out a spoon and the jelly, then made his way upstairs to Buffy's room. 

Spike looked around the room thoughtfully as he set the items in his hands down on the night stand. The last time he'd been up here, he'd only gotten a brief look while retrieving the spellbook for Willow. It seemed like so long ago. Shedding his duster and his favorite red shirt, he began to curiously pick things up, studying each item before returning it to its spot. He adored the pictures, the little stuffed pig and cow on the bed, the mixture of makeup and slaying supplies scattered across the desk. 

He glanced at the alarm clock, wondering when Buffy would be back from patrol. He really needed that aspirin. His head felt like it was going to explode. Picking up a book, he propped up the pillows on the bed, then settled against them to wait. 

After a few minutes of reading, he did something really strange. His mouth opened uncontrollably and he inhaled deeply. He couldn't stop whatever was happening and it made him feel sleepy. Blinking several times, he wiped his nose with the Kleenex he'd found, then went back to the book. 

 

*****

 

Buffy climbed through the window silently, then froze before a smile crossed her face. On her bed was a sound asleep Spike, breathing heavily through his mouth, book held loosely in his hands on his lap. She finished coming into the room and walked over to the side of the bed, gently taking the book from him and setting it aside. She saw the aspirin, jelly and spoon on the night stand and her smile grew wider. She hadn't taken pills that way since she was a kid. 

Grabbing some pajamas, the Slayer went into the bathroom to clean up and change, mentally calculating how long it's been since they'd left the school. While she'd been out on patrol, she'd done a lot of thinking about her woe-be-gone guest, effectively blocking out Wesley's droning on and on about whatever he'd been droning on and on about. 

Just like a child, Spike had no idea on how to control his body, or what certain things his body did meant. After two hundred years of not having to do anything with it, she understood why he wouldn't remember how to go to the bathroom, or what normal hunger felt like, or a headache. If he really got sick, he'd probably act in typical male fashion, but it could probably be worse. And if he got hurt, he wouldn't heal as rapidly as a vampire. He could actually be killed quite easily. 

She stopped by the linen closet on her way to her room, digging out extra blankets. Returning to her room, she snatched a pillow he wasn't using and made a bed on the floor for herself. Then, she carefully removed Spike's Doc Martens, pulled one end of the comforter over him, set the alarm for two hours later and put it on the floor within easy reach, then went to sleep. 

Buffy felt as though she'd just closed her eyes when the alarm went off. Disoriented, she slapped her hand on it and looked around. *Why am I on the...oh, yeah,* she thought, sitting up. She blinked sleepily and yawned, then stood, looking down at the bed. Spike had turned on his side in his sleep, one hand curled into a fist by his face. "Spike," she said quietly, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed, rubbing his shoulder to wake him. 

"Just kill the wanker," Spike muttered. 

She giggled. "Spike, wake up," she tried again, still rubbing his shoulder like her mother did when she was younger. 

Spike pried his heavy eyes open, trying to focus on the person calling his name. When he saw Buffy, he smiled. His tired brain didn't grasp the fact that he was waking up, he thought he was still asleep and dreaming. He loved having dreams about her. "What is it, luv?" 

"You should probably go to the bathroom," Buffy told him. "I figure you don't want to wake up in a wet bed again." 

"Why would I want to go to the bathroom?" Spike asked, confused at his dream girl. "Unless you fancy taking a shower with me. I got that scented stuff you like."

"What?" It was Buffy's turn to be confused. "Spike, what are you talking about?" 

"That stuff that makes you smell like vanilla," he explained, his eyes drifting shut again. "We used it up the other night taking that bubble bath." 

"We did?" she asked. *Bubble bath? Ok, something strange is happening in the state of Spikemark,* she thought. 

"I used the last bit on your toes, luv, remember?" Spike said. "You said it tickled." 

*Maybe he thinks I'm Drusilla,* Buffy thought. "Spike, you really need to wake up." Suddenly, she felt an arm snake around her waist and pull her down next to him, her back to his chest. She felt him nuzzle her hair. "Spike!" she squeaked. 

"I'm sleepy, pet. You should be, too," he mumbled into her hair. "I love you, Buffy." 

Buffy's eyes grew huge at his sleep-filled words. She heard his breathing grow even and knew he was totally out of it again. Frozen in place, she repeated over and over in her head what he had said. *Me? Spike loves me? How can he love me, I'm his mortal enemy? Oh no, my life is not too strange.* 

She had to admit, however, that his arm felt nice around her stomach, the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back comforting. With a small groan at the absurdity of the situation, she pushed herself upright and shook Spike, saying his name sharply. "Spike, wake up." 

"What?" Spike said, eyes coming open to glare at the person shaking him. When he saw Buffy this time, he sighed. "I take it my being a bloody human wasn't a nightmare." 

"Sorry, but no," Buffy told him. 

He frowned as he took in her sleep tousled appearance. "When did you get home? I was waiting for you to open that bleedin' bottle for me." 

"A couple of hours ago," she replied. "You fell asleep on the bed." 

"Oh," Spike said, his face heating up. "Sorry." 

"‘S-ok," Buffy said. "Do you still need the aspirin?" 

"No," he answered, raising his hand to touch the back of his head. He winced at the pain when he pressed on the lump, but he had no headache. 

Buffy saw him wince and frowned. "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing," he said. She raised a brow skeptically and he sighed again. "I hit it on a wall."

"Ouch," Buffy responded. She reached over and turned on the light. "Let me see." 

Spike squinted when the light burned his eyes. "Hey, what's wrong with my eyes?" 

"Huh? Oh, that's your eyes protecting themselves until the iris adjusts to the change in light," Buffy explained. "I actually paid attention in science that day." 

"When will it stop? This doesn't feel good," he whined. 

"In a minute," she replied, moving his head to look at it. She gently ran her fingers over the back of his head. He hissed the same time she found a very large lump. "You whacked yourself pretty good." 

"No kidding, Slayer," Spike said sarcastically, his eyes now open normally. "Stop poking on it, you're only making it hurt worse." 

"It should go away by tomorrow," she told him. "It'll be tender, though, for a day or so." 

"Bloody marvelous," he said under his breath. Then he did that strange thing again, his mouth opening wide and inhaling deeply. "Will you tell me," he said with the action. "What the hell is happening?" 

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, the yawn passing to her. 

"That. What you just did," Spike said. 

"I yawned," she replied. 

"Oh," he said. "Why?" 

"Because I'm tired," she explained. "When you yawn, your body is telling you to shut up and go to sleep." 

"Then why aren't you shutting up and going to sleep?" Spike asked, grin on his face. 

"Two reasons - one, some big galoot is in my bed," Buffy replied. "And two, you should hit the head. I don't want to have to change my sheets in the morning. That would just be eew." 

Spike frowned in confusion. "Why do you want me to hit you on the head?" 

"Ugh!" Buffy threw up her hands and stood. "You're two hundred years old! You should have heard all these euphemisms already." She looked back to see him now sitting on the edge of the bed, eyeing her. "Just go to the bathroom, ok?" 

"But I don't have to," he replied. 

"Do it anyway," she said through clenched teeth. "Or I'll ship you over to the mansion and Angel can babysit you." 

Spike stood. "I didn't bloody ask to be a human and I can take care of myself," he snapped. "I don't need a bloody babysitter." 

Buffy sighed, not in a fighting mood and knowing that he was angry with the situation, not at her. "Listen, I only wanted to prevent you being embarrassed. Your human...ness is new, so you don't know how to control it yet. I'll have to figure out how you to teach you to sleep through the night without wetting the bed. Now, will you please not argue and just go to the bathroom so we can go back to sleep?" 

"Why would I wet the...bloody hell," he finished the sentence by closing his eyes. When he opened them again, his face was extremely red. "Thank you, Slayer. I'll just...uh...go." 

Buffy watched as he hurried out of the bedroom. "Only I would end up in my bedroom with a vampire who hated me turned human who loves me," she muttered as she unmade the bed. She reset the alarm and put it back on the night stand, then climbed in. Spike returned, still red faced, and looked anywhere but at her. "Your turn to sleep on the floor." 

"Right," he said. 

She waited until he was settled, then switched off the light. "Hey, you know what we didn't ask you?" 

"What's that, pet?" 

"Did you get your soul, too?" 

Spike frowned. "I don't know. What does it feel like to have a soul?" 

"Do you care if you kill anyone?" Buffy asked. "Would you feel guilty if you did?" 

"No," he replied. 

"Then you didn't get that back," she said. "You're the same annoying Spike, just with a living body instead of a dead one." 

"Undead." 

"Whatever. Go to sleep."

"Yes, dear." 

"Spike?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Shut up." 

Spike chuckled and closed his eyes. "Goodnight, Slayer." 

"Goodnight, human." 

"Slayer?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Shut up."

*****

Part Five

 

"Spi-ike?" 

Spike groaned at the sound of his name. "Go away." 

"Spi-ike, I need you to wake u-p," Buffy sang, crouching next to him on the floor. 

He opened his eyes and noticed the brightness of the room. He also noticed that he had a hard on, which wasn't too strange, but he didn't recall any erotic dreams. Then he remembered Oz's last minute conversation with him. *And every morning I get to look forward to this,* he thought sullenly. He looked at Buffy, who had a huge smile on her face. "What?" 

"Not to increase your already overblown ego," she said. "But you look kinda cute in the sunlight." 

"What?" Spike sat up and stared at her. Then he noticed he was sitting directly in a patch of sunlight coming from the open window. He held out his hands, turning them over then back, watching the sun not burn them. "Cor," he whispered in amazement. 

"Giles said he would be happy if you came down to the library today," Buffy told him, being sure not to mention the words ‘babysit' or ‘watch you.' "You can continue researching your predicament." 

"Uh-huh," he replied, not paying the slightest bit of attention to her. He was too fascinated with the sunlight. 

"Spike, did you hear what I said?" 

"Uh-huh." 

"There's a monster in the toilet that will bite your dick off when you go to use it," Buffy said. 

"Sounds good," Spike replied, looking at how the light played over the hair on his arms. 

"I love you so much, and if I don't jump your bones right now, I'm going to die," she said. 

"Uh-huh," he said. Then his head shot up. "What?" 

Buffy laughed. "Nothing. Why don't you go take a shower. If you want to come to school with me, we have to leave in twenty-five minutes." His stomach growled in response. "And it sounds like you need to eat, too." 

"Right, Joyce told me that's what it meant last night," Spike said, standing. He winced at the soreness in his back. "I hate this. You know that, Slayer?" 

"Yes, Spike, I know," Buffy replied. "You told me plenty of times last night." 

"Well, I'm reiterating it. I bloody hate this," he told her. 

"Just go take a shower," she said, giving him a slight push. 

Spike cursed as the water warmed up, using the toilet once again. "Do I have to bloody go all the fucking time?" After flushing, he climbed into the shower and let out a shout, jumping back. "Bloody fucking hell!" He leaned forward, trying to reach the shower knob to adjust the temperature without being scalded. Gritting his teeth, the water cooled down enough for him to step under the spray. Yet another downfall of being a human - feeling temperature differences. 

"Highway to hell," he sang under his breath as he showered. "I'm on a highway to hell." At least his hard on went away on its own. He then realized that he would have to put the same clothes back on, and that he didn't even have his toothbrush. Blood breath was bad, but morning mouth was even worse. And he had a great toothbrush, too, a gift from Drusilla before Angel lost his soul. It was one of those brushes with a cartoon figure for a handle. His was Count Duckula. 

After drying off, Spike climbed out of the shower to see a small paper bag with his name on it sitting on the sink. *That wasn't here before,* he thought, frowning as he opened it. It turned into a grin when he pulled out a comb, a tooth brush, toothpaste, even deodorant. He looked up and saw his hazy reflection in the mirror behind the fog from the shower. He quickly wiped it off and saw himself smiling back at him. "Well, this is one plus," he told himself as he combed his hair. 

Eventually, he made it downstairs, his stomach rumbling. He found Joyce and Buffy sitting in the kitchen. "Morning," he greeted cheerfully. 

"You're in a better mood," Buffy said, gesturing to a bowl of cereal with the carton of milk sitting next to it. "Dig in. We have to leave in a few." 

"Thank you," he said. "And thank you to whichever lovely lady got me the toothbrush." 

Joyce smiled. "You're quite welcome, Spike. I figured you didn't bring anything when you came up here from LA." 

"I did leave in a bloody hurry," he said, frowning at the milk and cereal. "Do you have any coffee?" 

"Behind you," Joyce told him. "Cup's above the microwave." 

Buffy noted the expression on his face before he turned to get some coffee. She quickly opened the milk and poured it on the cereal, then added several scoops of sugar. It was Cheerio's, after all. "Do you want to head home today?" she asked. 

"Trying to get rid of me already, Slayer?" Spike teased as he returned to island, coffee in hand. He saw what Buffy had done and felt his heart do something funny. It felt almost like it was filling and compressing at the same time, and his breath caught in his throat. He must have made a face, because she looked at him with concern. 

"What's wrong?" 

"I don't know," he confessed, breathing out heavily. "Whatever happened wasn't bad." 

"Maybe it was the coffee," Joyce suggested. "It warms you from the inside as you drink it." 

Spike didn't think that was it, but didn't want to say anything. He'd ask Oz later, in case it was a ‘guy' thing. He'd been embarrassed enough over the past twelve hours. He took a bite of the cereal and felt the sweetness explode in his mouth. "Cor, this is good." 

"Good for you, too," Buffy told him. 

"Until you poured all that sugar on it," Joyce corrected. 

"It's tasteless if you don't," she replied. "Besides, he seems to be enjoying it at the rate it's disappearing. Jeez, Spike, you're worse than Xander." 

Spike glowered at her. "Am not," he said with a mouthful of food. 

Both Buffy and Joyce started laughing, and the latter stood. "Do you want a ride to school?" 

"Nah," Buffy told her. "I want to take Fido here out for a walk in the sun." Spike glared at her, but kept eating and drinking his coffee. "Plus, I promised Willow I'd pick her and Xander up along the way." 

"Ok, I'll see you tonight then," Joyce said. "Please try and be home for dinner." 

"Yes, mom," Buffy sighed. 

"Have a pleasant day, Spike." 

"You too, mum," Spike replied, giving her a devilish grin. Joyce shook her head in motherly defeat, then left. 

"Spike, she's not your mom, she's my mom," Buffy chastised as she put her dishes in the sink. 

"So?" 

"Do you know how infuriating you are?" 

"Of course," Spike replied. "That's what I'm best at. Besides killing, that is." 

"Well, you can't do that anymore," Buffy said. "First of all, you have no reason to. Second, it could backfire and you'd die. Third, if you didn't die, I'd hurt you. A lot. Then I'd let Angel hurt you. Finally, I have enough death in my life already. Will you please try and restrain your violent tendencies?" 

"Only because you threatened so nicely," he answered, finishing off the coffee. 

Buffy looked up towards the ceiling. "Save me from human vampires." 

"Do you know how bloody ridiculous that sounds, pet?" 

"About as ridiculous as you sitting in my kitchen still talking instead of being a pile of dust," she replied. 

Spike brought his dishes to the sink, putting his arms on either side of her and leaning against her back. "Come on, ducks. I know you fancy me," he said in her ear. 

"In your dreams," she said, then bit the inside of her cheek as she remembered that was true. She turned her head far enough to look up at him and saw his face was flushed and he was breathing somewhat heavily. "We should go." 

"Yeah," Spike croaked out, then cleared his throat. "We probably should." But he didn't move, his hands resting on the sink on either side of her. She smelled so good, felt so good against him. 

"Spike?" Buffy said. 

"Yes, luv?" 

"You have to move before we can go," she said. 

He stepped back away from her suddenly, as if he'd been burned. "Bloody hell," he said under his breath. 

Buffy turned and gave him a half-smile, put on her coat and grabbed her backpack and purse. "Come on, let's go." 

Spike followed her out the door, squinting in the bright sunlight. He shivered when a gust of wind hit him, and he hunched his shoulders, pulling his duster closer to him. "I hate this," he muttered. 

"Cold?" Buffy asked as they walked down the street. 

"If my body shivering means that I'm cold, then yes," he said between clenched teeth. 

Buffy stopped and grabbed his arm to stop him, as well. "Look, I didn't do have anything to do with this, but if it's any consolation, I'm sorry," she told him. 

Spike studied her upturned face, checking the seriousness of her words. He took a deep breath, noting the crispness of the air as he inhaled, then sighed. "It's not your fault, pet. You've been more than kind in trying to figure out what happened. This is all so bloody befuddling to me. I haven't been alive in over two hundred years. I feel like such a bloody baby." 

"At least you can tell us what you're feeling," Buffy comforted. "Babies can't. Plus, you already knew how to eat, walk and do other...things. You just have to relearn your body signals. After all, you may be human for the rest of your life." 

"Joy," he replied. 

Buffy frowned. "I wonder if you'll age regularly," she said as they continued their way to Willow's house. "You know what else I was wondering?" 

"What's that, ducks?" 

"Why'd you think that I was the one who turned you human," Buffy replied. 

"I don't know," Spike answered. *Maybe because it's you I think about all the time,* he added mentally. 

"It could have easily been Drusilla," she said.

"True, but I don't think she has that kind of power," he replied, frowning. "Unless she had help. But why would she want to make me huma-...oh." Realization dawned on Spike. *She could have been reading my thoughts and found I was no longer thinking of her, then did this to punish me, knowing that I'd hate it.* 

"Oh, what?" 

"Never mind," Spike said quickly. "Isn't that Willow and that whelp?" 

"His name is Xander, be nice," Buffy told him as the two friends walked to join them. "Hi, guys." 

"Hi Buffy, hi Spike," Willow greeted cheerfully, falling in step next to the peroxide blond. "How do you like the sun?" 

"If I wasn't cold, it'd be nice," Spike answered her. 

"Have you ever noticed that the Hellmouth is one wiggy place?" Xander asked from the other side of Buffy. 

"All the time, why?" Buffy said. 

"I just wanted to point it out again. Make sure everyone was on the same level when I say: why Deadboy, the Second? Why not the original? I bet he's steamed, too. Like a pair of pants," Xander replied. 

"I thought you pressed pants," Willow said. "And steamed dresses." 

"What about ships?" Spike joked to the red head. "Or trains?" Willow giggled. 

"Spike, you're pathetic," Buffy said. "And yes, Angel is not the happy camper. But life hasn't been fair to us so far, why should it change?" 

Spike looked down at her as they headed for the school. Her face was an expression of sadness and he felt a tightening in his chest, wanting him to pull her into his arms and make everything better. He didn't remember human bodies reacted to everything, even emotions. And as much as he wanted her for himself, he wanted her happiness more. "Cheer up, pet. If we figure out how this happened, maybe you can do it to your poopsy." 

"My poopsy?" Buffy asked, not believing his terminology. "You are so strange." 

"How can I not be?" Spike replied. "I'm a two hundred year old vampire turned human who's walking to high school with his mortal enemy and her chums." 

They arrived at the school and joined in the throng of people heading into the building. "I'm going to drop Spike off at the library," Buffy told her friends. "I'll see you in class."

"See you later," Willow said. 

"I can't believe that Spike's here at school, during the day," Xander said to Willow as they stopped at their lockers, the other two continuing on. 

"I can't bloody believe that I'm here at a school, during the day," Spike muttered to himself as he brushed passed students. All this warm blood walking around, and he couldn't hear it or smell it. And that was his favorite part of being a vampire, next to the killing. He was starting to get depressed. 

"Hi, Giles," Buffy greeted the librarian as they entered the library. "He's all yours. Try not to choke him, I want that privilege." 

"Thanks, Slayer, you're too kind," Spike said, brushing past her to slump down on a chair. 

Buffy frowned at him, then turned to Giles and lowered her voice. "Spike's been moody all morning. I'd say he has PMS, but he lacks...or rather, has too many parts." 

"Are you saying he is having mood swings?" Giles asked. 

"Big time. Oh, and he doesn't have a soul. He's still the same old Spike," she replied. The warning bell rang. "I gotta get to class. Have fun." She looked over at Spike. "See you later, Spike." Spike gestured goodbye, but didn't raise his eyes from the surface of the table. Buffy gave Giles a pointed look, then left. 

"Well, um, Spike," Giles said. "H-How is it going?" 

"Bloody fucking awful," Spike replied sullenly. 

"Anything you wish to speak about?" Giles asked. 

"I think Dru did this to me," he said. 

"Why do you think that?" 

He shrugged. "It's only a thought. She'd do it if she were jealous." 

"Does she have reason to be jealous?" Giles inquired, trying to get more information. 

"Yeah," Spike sighed. "But she was the one who said it was over. Why can't I think about someone else? What gives her the bloody right to dictate who I choose to love?" 

"Is-is there any way we may ascertain for certain that she is the one who made you human?" Giles asked. 

"Not unless we want to make a trip to good old sunny Brazil," he replied. 

"Maybe we do," Giles said. Spike's head shot up and looked at him. "If you're that miserable as a-a-a human, maybe we should go down there and make her change you back." 

Spike thought about it for a moment, then sighed. "I don't know, Watcher. I could be wrong," he said, then added silently, *But not bloody likely.* 

"Well then, I guess we had better get to work," Giles said, handing him a stack of books. "I shall be in my office if you require anything." 

Spike watched Giles walk away, then opened a book. But instead of reading, he was planning on how he was going to find out if Dru was the culprit and if she could do whatever she did to Angel. He knew he'd never have a chance with the Slayer, so he'd love her by giving her everything she desired, which, unfortunately, included his sire. 

 

*****

 

"Spike's in love with me," Buffy whispered to Willow in their first period class. The two girls sat next to each other, while Xander sat a few rows up. 

"What?" Willow gasped. 

"He's in love with me," she repeated. "Last night, I went to wake him up and he started talking in his sleep. He said something about taking a bath with him and vanilla scented soap, then he pulled me down on the bed next to him and told me he loved me." 

"No," Willow said in disbelief. Buffy nodded. "Oh, wow. Does he know he told you?" 

"Nope," she replied. "Like I said, he was still asleep when he started talking. Then this morning, he put his arms around me when he put his dishes in the sink to tease me, and he got all flushed." 

"Oh wow." 

"You said that already, Will." 

"Yeah, but this is like very oh wow," Willow said. "He's Spike. Spike is in love with you. It's like...Spike being in love with you." 

"Good analogy," Buffy said sarcastically. Willow shrugged. "Anyway, despite the fact that he is a major hottie, he's still no Angel." 

"Would you jump him, though?" 

"Willow!"

"What? I can't have naughty thoughts about no-longer-undead men?" Willow asked. 

"You're having dirty thoughts about Spike?" Buffy said, arching a brow. 

"No, no, no. Oz is my only dirt," Willow replied. "Unless you count wolf-Oz as different dirt." 

Buffy giggled. "Willow, you are bad." 

"That's me, I'm a baddie," Willow grinned. "But someone didn't answer my question." 

"I plead the fourth," Buffy said. 

"Don't you mean the fifth?" 

"Whatever means I'm not going to answer that question," Buffy said. "That's the one." 

"I see how it is," Willow said, nodding. "You'd do him in the middle of the library." 

Buffy blushed bright red. "Willow," she hissed. 

"Miss Summers, Miss Rosenberg, would you care to join us?" the teacher asked. 

Both girls looked down apologetically. "Sorry," they said. When the teacher went on, Willow leaned over to Buffy. "You know you would." 

The Slayer was red for the rest of class. 

 

*****

 

"Where's Spike?" Buffy asked Giles as the group came into the library at lunch time. 

"He was getting a bit stir crazy, so he took a walk," Giles said. 

"Oh, ok. Well, if he comes back and is hungry, he can use my lunch pass," Buffy said, giving it to the librarian. "I brought my own. Tell him we'll be back after school." 

 

 

Part Six

 

 

Spike walked with slow, measured steps on his way back to the school. He had found a few of his former minions at Willie's who were willing to go down to Brazil to find out the situation without asking him too many questions. Luckily, they didn't seem to notice his heart beat or the fact he was breathing. 

He looked up into the clear sky, shading his eyes with his hand. Being out in the sunshine was probably the only thing good about his predicament. That and the Slayer wasn't trying to kill him, was actually being friendly to him. Too bad she was in love with someone else. 

He arrived back at the school as sunset was nearing, having taken a detour through a park to sit and watch some children playing in a pond, chasing fish and frogs. One of the little girls reminded him of Buffy, all full of life. He played the what if game in his mind, as well, before deciding he was turning into brood boy and headed back to the school. 

"There you are!" Buffy exclaimed as he walked through the library doors. "It's getting dark outside." 

"Worried, pet?" Spike asked, giving her a cocky grin, hiding his feelings. 

"No, yes, no," Buffy stammered. "I just didn't want to go out on patrol and find you dead, because you'd probably haunt me." 

"Anything you say, Slayer," he said, walking up to Oz who was sitting on the table, strumming his acoustic guitar. "You got a minute, mate?" 

Oz looked up at the clock. "Actually, I have three." 

Spike frowned in confusion, then lowered his voice. "I have one of those ‘male' questions for you." 

"Ah," Oz said, setting the guitar down in the case. He slid off the table and motioned for the ex- vampire to join him in the cage. "What's up?" 

"Something odd happened this morning," Spike said. "My heart felt like it was being squeezed at the same time it was expanding. Bloody weird feeling." 

"Do you know what triggered it?" 

"I looked at a bowl of cereal," he replied. 

Oz furrowed his brow slightly. "What was so special about the cereal?" 

"Nothing. Buffy had fixed it when I was getting coffee." 

"Oh, well that explains it," Oz said. "I feel that every time Willow steps into the room." 

"What is it?" 

"Utter happiness," he answered. "It happens when you're in complete and total love with a person." He glanced over at the clock. "Sorry man, times up." 

Spike frowned. "What?"

"It's about to get a little hairy in here, so you might want to leave," Oz told him as he started taking off his shirt. 

"Spike, you need to leave the cage," Willow said, walking into the cage to check the window. She ushered Spike out with her, then closed the door. "See you in the morning, sweety." 

Oz gave Willow a small smile, then disappeared behind the shelf. Spike gave the red head a questioning look. "What's going on?" 

"My boyfriend's a werewolf," Willow answered simply. Oz-wolf jumped at the cage door in punctuation, making Spike leap backwards. "See?" 

Spike's heart was pounding in his chest and he felt short of breath. "Bloody," gasp. "Fucking," gasp. "Hell." 

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked, looking up from her homework. 

"Oz scared him," Willow explained. Oz-wolf growled as if in response to his name. 

"I bloody hate this!" Spike yelled, spinning on his heel, heart still pounding and disappearing up into the stacks. 

Buffy and Willow watched him storm off, then looked at each other. "Definitely decaf," Willow said. 

"Think I should go after him?" Buffy asked. 

"I don't know," Willow replied. "He could be doing that guy thing. You know, when they go off like guys do." 

"Well, as long as he's here in the library," she said. "I know it sounds silly, but I really don't want him to be running around alone at night. Knowing him, he'd get into trouble within thirty seconds, and he's just a human now. Fighting skill or not, he does rely on his strength. Remember what happened when I no longer had mine?" 

"Yeah," Willow said. Oz-wolf growled again, and she looked back at him. "You ok watching Oz? Giles won't be here until around five tomorrow." 

"Go," Buffy told her. "I can deal with your boyfriend's inner beast." 

"Thanks," she replied, picking up her backpack. "Hopefully we'll get Amy back tonight. I've been researching on shape shifting, and the night before and on the full moon is the best." 

"Good luck," Buffy said. Willow left with a wave and the Slayer returned to her books. "Ok, what does J'adore mon chat translate to? Um, I love to talk?"

"I love my cat," Spike's voice drifted down to her. She turned her head to see him sitting on the stairs. "It means ‘I love my cat' not ‘I love to talk'. That's J'adore parler." 

"Thanks," she smiled at him. "I didn't know you could speak French." 

"J'allais jusqu'au bois de noisetier   
Poussé par un feu dans mon coeur  
Je taillai une ligne de noisetier  
Et pendis une baie à mon fil  
Et quand les phalènes reprirent leur vol   
Et les étoiles filantes leurs sauts Je plongeai la baie dans le torrent   
Jusqu'à y prendre une truite d'argent 

"Quand je l'eus posée là par terre   
J'allai pour remettre le feu en flammes   
Mais quelque chose bruissait là par terre   
Et quelqu'un appela mon nom :   
Ce fut soudain une pétillante fille   
Des fleurs de pommier aux cheveux   
Qui appela mon nom puis s'en fut   
Disparut dans les brumes de l'aube 

"Or bien que vieilli de voyages   
Par basses terres et hautes terres   
Je trouverai où elle se cache   
J'aurai ses lèvres prendrai ses mains   
Et j'irai le long des longues herbes mures   
Cueillant jusqu'au bout du temps et des temps   
Les pommes d'argent de la lune   
Les pommes dorées du soleil"

"Wow," Buffy said. He shrugged like it was no big deal. "I'd hate to have to translate all that." 

Spike gave her a lopsided grin. "Want me to translate for you?" 

"Please," she nodded, turning fully in her chair to face him. 

"I went out to the hazel wood,   
Because a fire was in my head,   
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,   
And hooked a berry to a thread;   
And when white moths were on the wing,   
And moth-like stars were flickering out,   
I dropped the berry in a stream   
And caught a little silver trout 

"When I had laid it on the floor   
I went to blow the fire aflame,   
But something rustled on the floor,   
And some one called me by my name:   
It had become a glimmering girl   
With apple blossom in her hair   
Who called me by my name and ran   
And faded through the brightening air. 

"Though I am old with wandering   
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,   
I will find out where she has gone,   
And kiss her lips and take her hands;   
And walk among long dappled grass,   
And pluck till time and times are done   
The silver apples of the moon,   
The golden apples of the sun." 

"I double my wow and raise you a that was beautiful," Buffy told him. 

This time, he gave her a sad smile. "I'm gonna go for a walk, pet," he said, pushing to his feet. 

"Um, no." 

"What?" Spike looked at her like she was crazy. 

"I have to stay here and Oz-sit, so I can't walk you home," Buffy explained. 

"I don't need a bloody escort service," he scoffed. 

"Spike, please don't fight me," she replied. "If you want, when Angel stops by you can go with him." 

"Not bloody likely," he spat, storming towards the doors. 

Buffy was on her feet in an instant. She grabbed his arm and forcibly stopped him. Oz-wolf jumped on the cage, snarling. "Spike, for some totally whacked out reason, you're human. That means, if you go out there at night, you have a chance of becoming very dead. Or worse," she yelled. "Did you stop to think what would happen if some vampire decided to turn you again?" 

"Why the fuck do you care?" Spike yelled back. Oz-wolf started to growled loudly, launching himself at the door. "You never did before! All you ever cared about was Angel, even when he did nothing but fuck up your life and my life and your friends lives!" 

"Angel has nothing to do with the fact that you're a human!" 

"He's got everything to do with the fact that I'm a bloody human!" Spike continued yelling. "If it wasn't for him losing his fucking soul, then he wouldn't have taken Dru away from me!" 

"And that has relevance how?" Buffy asked sarcastically. 

"Damn you, Buffy! Angel took Dru, Dru left me, I moved on and she got jealous! She knew that this was one of the two things that could destroy me!" he spat. "I can't be a human! I hated being human! I was pathetic and weak and worthless and I hated it! I CAN'T DO THIS!" 

Oz-wolf let out a long howl, surprising both so badly, they jumped several feet apart. Spike's heart was hammering so hard in his chest, it felt like it was going to burst, both from anger and fright. He shoved past Buffy, sprinting back up into the stacks, emotions that he couldn't name choking him up. He kept going deeper into the second floor until he found an tattered, orange chair near a corner and flung himself into it, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Harsh, ugly sobs rose from his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. 

Buffy stood frozen in her spot, listening to the sounds of Spike's sobbing mixed in with Oz-wolf's low growls. She hadn't realized how truly hard it was on him, she just assumed that anyone would want to be human again if given the chance. She never thought that he could be anything but the Spike she knew, the tough, brassy, sarcastic male who was able to love despite not having a soul. 

Taking a deep breath, Buffy let it out slowly. She went over to the table, picked up some of her books, then went into Giles' office, closing the door behind her to give him some privacy. Sitting down at the librarian's desk, she rested her elbows on it and leaned her head on her fingertips. She debated on calling someone, but the only person who she thought would be able to help him was currently prowling the cage in the other room. Xander was out of the question, he would never listen to Angel, Giles was MIA for the night and she wouldn't call Wesley for a billion dollars. She just had to hope that he would be ok. 

 

*****

Part Seven

 

 

Buffy slowly walked back to the library from making a quick patrol around the school. In her hands she held two sodas and some munchies as a peace offering. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of Spike since he'd gone up into the stacks over two hours before. She knew he was still there because when she concentrated, she could sense his presence, much in the same way she sensed where her former Watcher was when she hit him with a dodge ball blindfolded. 

When she pushed through the doors, two new things struck her immediately. First, Oz-wolf was lying quietly on the floor of the cage, head resting on his paws. The second was the sounds of guitar music emanating from the stacks. Buffy looked over at the table and saw that Oz's guitar was missing. Then she heard his voice, low and soothing as he began to sing. 

"If I could reach the stars, pull one down for you. Shine it on my heart, so you could see the truth. That this love I have inside is everything you need. But for now I find, only in my dreams I could change the world. I would be the sunlight in your universe. You would think my love for you was something good, baby if I could change the world." 

Angel had told Buffy that he had found Spike the night before playing the piano in the auditorium. *Now, he's playing the guitar,* she thought as she made her way up the steps. *And he's good, too.* 

"If I could be king even for a day, I'd make you as my queen, I'd have it no other way. Then our love would rule in this kingdom we had made. Til then I'll be a fool wishing for the day that I could change the world. You would be my sunlight in this universe. You would think my love for you was something good, baby if I could change the world." 

Buffy saw him sitting there, fingers moving gracefully up and down the fret board, playing the instrumental part of the song. He was watching his hand as he played, the guitar balancing on one knee as he perched on the edge of the chair. 

"If I could change the world, you would be the sunlight in my universe. You would think my love for you was something good, baby if I could change the world. Baby, if I could change the world. Baby, if I could," his voice softened with the last phrase as the song came to a close. "Change the world." 

She waited silently as the last strum faded, then made some noise as she joined him. "Hi," Buffy greeted quietly. She held up the snacks. "I come in peace?" 

One side of Spike's mouth went up as he accepted the soda and bag of chips from her. "Thanks," he replied. 

Buffy nodded and sat down on the floor in front of him. "You're quite the multi-talented bleached blond. Play the guitar, play the piano, quote French poetry," she listed. "Any more hidden talents I should be amazed about?" 

"I know how to set the clock on a VCR," he answered, opening the chips and eating one. 

"I'm impressed. Not many men know how to even turn it on," Buffy said. "By the way, you sing really good." 

"Want to start a band?" Spike asked. "You can play the triangle." 

"Drums," she corrected with a grin. "And you can sing." 

"That I can do, pet," he replied. "That's about all I can bloody do." 

"Don't go Dawson on me, Spike," Buffy said. "Why don't you play something else. It calmed Oz down to the point that he's actually quiet." 

"What do you want to hear? I can do a mean Slash impersonation," he said, this time giving her a small grin. 

"Who were you just playing?" 

"Clapton," he replied. 

"Play something else by him," she instructed. 

"Ok, luv," Spike said. "I think you'd know this one." He slowly began to strum. "Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven? Would it be the same if I saw you in heaven? I must be strong and carry on ‘cause I know I just don't belong here in heaven." 

He looked down at her sitting on the floor Indian style, every bit the woman he'd fallen for, and the meaning of the song changed for him. "Would you hold my hand if I saw you in heaven? Would you help me stand if I saw you in heaven? I'll find my way through night and day ‘cause I know I just can't stay here in heaven." 

She was his heaven. And it hurt to be this close to her and not have her realize that. "Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees. Time can break the heart, have you beggin' please, beggin' please." 

Buffy closed her eyes as the instrumental part washed over her, flooding her emotions. He sang as though each word were coming from his soul. The soul he supposedly didn't have. "Beyond the door there's peace, I'm sure. And I know there'll be no more tears in heaven." 

Spike smiled slightly when he saw her close her eyes. He was glad he could make her happy like he obviously was doing because he knew he would never belong in her life, just like in the song. "Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven? Would you be the same if I saw you in heaven? I must be strong and carry on ‘cause I know I don't belong here in heaven." 

Tears were running down Buffy's cheeks when he finished. She wiped at them with her hand, chuckling slightly. "That was...yeah." 

"Buffy?" 

Spike and Buffy both turned towards the voice that was calling from the main part of the library. "Coming!" Buffy called back. She stood and looked down at him. "I..." She didn't know what to say, so she leaned down and kissed his cheek before walking away. 

Spike felt that heart swelling thing again and he took a deep breath and sighed. Leaning over the guitar, he began to finger the strings randomly, making up his own soft, sad song to go with his mood. At the rate he was going, he'd have Angel beat by a mile for the biggest brooder in Sunnydale. 

He saw Buffy return out of the corner of his eye and looked up. "Feel like going home? Angel's here and he said he'd watch Oz," she asked. 

Standing, he handed her the guitar and picked up his chips and soda. "Lead the way, luv." 

 

*****

 

"Spike?" Buffy started tentatively as they walked back to her house. "I'm sorry this is so hard on you." 

"Don't worry about it, pet," Spike said. "It's not your problem." 

"But I feel like it's my fault," she said. "And on top of all the human stuff, you had to come to your mortal enemy for help." 

"I did once before," he shrugged. 

"I still feel bad." 

"Slayer, it can in no conceivable way be your fault," Spike told her. "No one can control who they fall in love with, it doesn't work that way. And if it's Drusilla that did this to me, I'm to blame for loving her at one time." 

"So, what can I do to help you then?" Buffy asked. "And I still can't believe that I'm offering to you, of all people, my help." 

Spike chuckled. "You've done enough, luv," he replied. "I'll be heading back to LA tomorrow until I hear some news. Then if it isn't Drusilla, well...I don't know. Maybe I'll join the mob or something." 

They reached the back door with a smattering of laughter and Buffy followed Spike inside. "Hi mom," Buffy said to Joyce who was seated at the counter. 

"Hello, you two," Joyce greeted in return. "Are you home for the night, Buffy?" 

"No, I have to get back to the library," she answered, then turned to Spike. "Go ahead and take my bed. I'll be back around two because Angel promised he'd wolf-sit until Giles got there at five, which will leave him a half an hour to get back to the mansion." 

"If you're sure," Spike said. "I don't mind the floor." 

"Waste not, want some," Buffy replied, then frowned. "Or is it wait not, want more? Or maybe it's want not, waste some." 

"Buffy?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I'll take the bed," he told her with a smile. 

"Ok, good," she said. "I guess I'll see you later then. Night, mom." 

"Goodnight, Buffy. Be careful," Joyce replied as her daughter went out the door. She looked over at Spike, taking in his somewhat haggard appearance and bloodshot eyes. "I saved some dinner for you," she said, standing and walking to the refrigerator. 

"You didn't have to do that," Spike told her, wearily sitting down on a stool. He leaned his head in one hand, resting his elbow on the counter. 

"I made it anyway," Joyce said, sticking the plate in the microwave. "Of course, no one came home for dinner, but at least Buffy called this time." The timer went off and she took the food out, setting it before him. "Here you go." 

"Thanks," he replied, picking up a fork and pushing the food around the plate. "I'll be out of your hair tomorrow." 

"Are you going home?" 

"Yeah," Spike answered. "There's nothing that can really be done here in Sunnyhell. Plus the Slayer undoubtably wants me out of her life." 

"That's not true," Joyce said. "She was worried about you earlier when you weren't in the library after school." 

"Yeah right," he mumbled, taking a bite of the food. He then pressed the palm of his hand against one eye. "Bloody hell. Can I have one of those aspirins?" 

"Of course you may," she replied. As she was about to open the bottle, she paused. "You know, I just thought of something. Do you even have any food at your house? Or things like aspirin, or bandaids?" 

"No, why would I?" 

"True," she said, opening the bottle and getting out a spoon and the jelly. "I can give you some food to go and all you'll have to do is microwave it. You do have a microwave, don't you?" 

"It came with the house," Spike answered, taking the proffered spoon and swallowing the aspirin/jelly mix. "I think there might be food still lying around. I never bothered to clean it out, seeing as I don't use the kitchen." 

"Here," Joyce said, putting a pad of paper and pencil next to him. "Write down your phone number and address, and I'll give you our number here and mine at work. That way, you can call if you have any questions, and I can send you care packages." 

Spike looked at her dumbfounded. "Why are you being so nice to me? I tried to kill your daughter on numerous occasions and her friends." 

"Call it maternal instinct," Joyce replied. 

"But you're not my mum. In fact, I'm older than you by centuries," he said. 

"How old were you when you...became a vampire. Is that the right way to say it?" she asked. 

"It'll do," he shrugged. "And I have no idea how old I was. I do remember seeing the turn of the century, so I'm at least over two hundred." 

"Well, you look to be in your young twenties, maybe even eighteen or nineteen," Joyce said. "By default, that makes me feel older. Besides, Buffy no longer lets me mother her enough, so I have spare."

"And you'd waste it on me?" 

"I don't think of it as a waste," she corrected. "Everyone needs a mother now and then." 

Spike studied her a moment. "Where were you when I was a lad?" He picked up the pencil and began writing, then tapped the pill bottle which was sitting on the table with it. "Can you show me how to open this?" 

"Of course," Joyce replied. "It's a child proof cap, which means children can open it, but the adults can't." She gave him a smile, then showed him the writing on the cap. "You push down and turn at the same time...." 

 

*****

 

"Spike's going home tomorrow," Buffy told Angel while they were sat together at the table in the library. 

"You sound disappointed," Angel said. 

"No, just a little worried," she replied. "You missed the fireworks earlier. He really hates being human again." 

"So, even though he's leaving, I take it he's not giving up on finding out what happened," Angel asked. 

"He thinks it was Drusilla," she said. "I guess he sent someone down to wherever the loony is to find out for sure. Until then, he'll just have to not let it destroy him." 

"I don't understand." 

"He said that becoming human again was one of the two things that could destroy him,"Buffy replied. "And before you ask, I have no clue what the other thing is. All I know is that he absolutely, completely, entirely, undoubtably hates being human." 

Angel chuckled. "I guess it would be awkward." 

"Do you remember what a yawn feels like? Or a headache?" Buffy asked. "Think about it. Human bodies do and feel things, emotions cause physical responses, we have to train it and learn what certain things mean. And that's normally done by the time you're three. Which means that Spike is basically a very tall toddler." 

"Since when did you become such a font of knowledge," Angel teased. 

"Ha ha," she replied. "I was reading some child care books earlier to try to find out how...er, never mind." 

"What?" 

"It's kinda personal," Buffy said. At the arch of his eyebrow, she hastily added, "Not for me personal, for Spike. I'm not having any children. I'm child free. Let's change the subject." 

 

*****

 

Buffy crept quietly into her bedroom after changing into her pajamas a little after two that morning and looked down at the sleeping man in her bed, this time curled up on his other side. She wondered when he went to the store because all he was wearing was a pair of sweat shorts and was looking decidedly yummy in them. Her lips slowly went up in a devilish smile and she lay down next to him, propping her head on her fist. She reached out with her other hand and began rubbing his shoulder. "Spike," she called quietly. He stirred a little, but did not respond. "Spike." 

Spike's eyes barely opened and he saw Buffy next to him on the bed. "Back already, pet," he mumbled sleepily, his dream world running over to the real world again. He reached out his own hand instinctively and slid it under her nightshirt, then began to lightly rub her abdomen. "What did the doctor say?" 

*Mmm, that feels good,* she thought as his warm fingers brushed over her skin. "About what?" she asked, debating on whether to stop him or not. 

"What do you think, luv?" Spike said. Before Buffy knew it, he had slid his hand down the front of her shorts and was stroking her most sensitive area. She let out a small gasp and found herself arching into his hand. "It's not going to hurt the baby, is it?" 

"Ba-," she gasped as his finger penetrated her. "-by?" She knew she had to stop him, was being exceedingly unfaithful to a man that she couldn't touch or couldn't touch her. She moaned, from pleasure, that thought and her predicament. All she wanted to do was see what else was in Spike's dreams, not feel them. 

"I want you so badly," he whispered in a dream-filled voice. He opened his eyes a little and saw Buffy biting her lip, her eyes tightly closed. He pushed her down flat with his arm and scooted closer to her, nuzzling her neck. His fingers did not stop their lazy assault on her core. 

Buffy felt his erection press up against her hip and she let out a little squeak. Between his lips on her neck, his shaft pressed against her and his fingers playing with her she knew she was in deep, deep trouble. Then she started to feel the tightening of her muscles between her legs and knew she was about to orgasm. "Oh god, Spike," she breathed as she went over the edge, her hips arching and writhing against his hand. Her muscles in her entire body melted with the orgasm and she could do nothing but lay limp as a noodle, her breathing heavy and her heart racing. 

She felt his hand leave her and she actually made a slight whimper at the loss of contact, until she felt him pushing her to her side so her back was up against his chest. Her eyes widened when her shorts were slowly being pushed down and she tried to tell her body to move, but it wouldn't listen. 

"Is it ok, luv?" he said in a low, sleep filled voice by her ear. She felt his much more of his erection as it was pressed against her backside, skin touching skin. His hand slid down her hip to her folds again, parting them while shifting his hips. 

When she felt the tip of his shaft at her opening, her body jerked back in excitement, effectively impaling herself on him. Buffy moaned low in her throat at the same time he did and his fingers played with her clit once more as he began to move in and out of her at a very slow pace. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her breaths coming in short pants as he filled her near virginal passage with each thrust of his hips. It felt so unbelievably good, but was so inconceivably wrong. 

"Oh, Buffy," Spike breathed in her ear, his own dream world firmly enmeshed with the real one. He pushed his chest closer to her silk covered back, his mouth moving over the side of her neck behind her ear with little kisses and licks. "I adore you." 

She was gone. Completely gone. His unconscious words sent shivers down her spine and she flew over the precipice again, her muscles jerking and clamping around him. She heard him let out a soft swear, then thrust up against her backside, fully sheathing himself in her as he came. He moved his hand so his arm was wrapped around her and he held her close. 

Buffy felt like she was floating, like her limbs had decided to detach from her body and drift away. Her mind was running a million miles per hour, but not settling on one thing long enough for her to comprehend what she was thinking. All she could do was lay there entwined intimately with Spike. 

"I love you, sweetheart," he murmured, slipping back into sleep. 

Buffy's eyes were wide as his breathing became even, what just occurred finally sinking into her brain. "Oh god," she said quietly, extracting herself from him and getting out of the bed. She pulled her shorts up and made her way to the bathroom to clean up. 

Turning on the light, her reflection caught her eye. Her face was flushed and her chest was rising and falling with each semi-quick breath. She put her hands to her cheeks and groaned. "I cannot believe that just happened." She looked at herself in the eyes. "I cannot believe that just happened and I enjoyed it. A lot." 

She shook her head and sighed. She quickly went to the bathroom, then cleaned herself up from the aftermath of the lovemaking. And she knew on Spike's side it was definitely making love. Her head suddenly shot up and she looked at herself in the mirror as some of his sleep induced words penetrated her mind. "Baby?" 

 

 

Part Eight

 

 

Buffy returned to the bedroom, took one look at Spike and freaked. She rushed over to the closet, blindly grabbing a shoe and shoving her foot into it. As she reached for another, she noted that the elastic of the shorts had at least ridden back up over him, then she made a strangled noise about the fact that she was looking in that area and yanked a coat off a hanger. She was halfway out the window when she remembered why she had gone to wake Spike up in the first place. 

Avoiding looking at that one particular area, she grabbed his shoulder and began shaking him. "Spike, wake up," she said somewhat loudly. 

"Stop your bloody shaking," Spike responding, coming awake. "I'm up." He turned his head and looked up at her. "What?" 

"Bathroom. Go. You," she managed to get out before his oh-so-blue eyes affected her. She turned and practically threw herself out the window. 

Spike frowned confusion at Buffy's actions as he sat up, his sleep filled brain still not functioning completely. He had been in the middle of one of his favorite dream-lines, where Buffy was pregnant with his child even though that was an impossibility. And as usual, it had become erotic. His frown deepened as he looked down at his lap and realized something was up, or more specifically not up. He patted the bed around him, searching but not finding the wet spot and wondered what was going on. He always woke up with a hard on or cum stained sheets when he dreamt like that. 

*Maybe it's one of those human guy things,* he thought as got up and headed for the bathroom. When he returned, he looked at the open window, puzzled. Then he shrugged, settled himself on the floor and went back to sleep. 

 

*****

 

Angel's head shot up from the book he was reading when Buffy burst through the library doors. "Buffy?" he said, rising to his feet at her appearance. She had two different shoes on and her long, pink coat was buttoned lopsided, her legs bare as if she dressed in a hurry. "What's wrong?" 

Buffy launched herself at him, wrapping her legs around his waist and grabbing the back of his head. She attacked his mouth with her own, forcing her tongue between his lips to taste him. She felt him stiffen under her and not just his cock, but still she continued. 

Angel pried her arms from around his neck and managed to stop the kiss, boldly putting her back on her own two feet. He took several steps back from her, panting from the arousing assault. "Buffy, you know we can't do that," he said, forcing his hormones under control. 

She stared at him wide eyed at the feelings, or rather lack of them, running through her body. She had felt nothing but a faint ‘this is nice' reaction to the powerful kiss. "Oh god," she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, the realization that Spike's fingertips dancing along her abdomen in a non-sexual way had evoked more feelings than the kiss. "I...I..." 

Angel watched as she turned and bolted out the door, confusion written plainly on his face. He looked over at Oz-wolf who was staring up at him curiously. "What the hell was that about?" 

 

*****

 

"Willow," Buffy called through the closed French doors of her best friend's bedroom as she rapped on the glass. "Willow." 

A very sleepy Willow opened the door to see a panicked looking Buffy standing there. "Buffy, what's wrong?" she asked, stepping back to allow her friend to enter. 

"I had sex with Spike and I liked it and then I went and kissed Angel and didn't feel anything," Buffy told her quickly, tears in her eyes. 

"What?!" Willow asked, eyes widening. "You had sex with Spike?" 

Buffy nodded, sinking down at the end of the bed. "I didn't mean to, it's not like I initiated it or anything. But, Willow, it felt so good and then I kissed Angel and didn't feel anything!" 

"Buffy, take a deep breath and start from the beginning," the red head instructed, sitting next to her on the bed. 

"Ok," Buffy replied, doing as told. "Remember how I told you yesterday Spike talked in his sleep?" 

"Bubble bath and loving you," Willow said. 

"Right. Well, when I got home, I thought I'd see what else he was dreaming about," she said. "I got on the bed next to him and did the same thing as I did last night and he started talking to me again." 

"What did he say?" 

"He asked me if the doctor said it was ok, then started rubbing my belly," Buffy answered. "Then he put his hand down my shorts and started...you know." 

Willow's eyes widened again. "He did?" 

Buffy nodded. "Then he asked if it was safe because of the baby and then he told me he wanted me and I came." 

"Baby?" Willow asked. "As in, your baby?" 

"I don't know," she replied. 

"What happened next?" 

"He turned me on my side and well..." 

"Oh!" Willow gasped. 

"And while he was... he told me he adored me, and we both came and then he said he loved me and fell back to sleep," Buffy finished. "Oh god, Willow. What am I going to do? It felt so wonderful, like I was dancing on a cloud. He was so tender and gentle, it's obvious he's totally in love with me." 

"And then you went and kissed Angel?" Willow asked. 

"And there was nothing," Buffy said morosely. "I love Angel so much and I felt nothing!" 

"Oh boy," the red head replied. 

"You can say that again," Buffy said, falling backwards on Willow's bed. 

"Oh boy." 

Buffy giggled, making Willow do the same. "What am I going to do, Will?" 

"You told me on the phone earlier that Spike's going home later today, right?" 

"Right." 

"Then you do nothing," Willow told her. "You could be mistaking good sex for feelings. Once he's gone, wait a few days, then try kissing Angel again." 

Buffy looked over at Willow. "When did you get to be so smart?" 

"The same day your lover kidnaped me and Xander," she replied. 

Buffy groaned. "Don't call him my lover, please?"

Willow gave her a devilish smile. "So, tell me the details? Is he big?" 

"Willow!" 

 

 

Part Nine

 

 

Spike kicked the door closed behind him, then wandered into the kitchen with the two paper bags he held in his arms. Setting them down on the table, he shed his duster then looked curiously around the room. "Well, mate, looks like you get to learn your way around a kitchen," he said to himself as he started to open cabinets. 

He hadn't realized humans kept the amount of food he found in the cabinets and fridge. He went back over to the bags on the table and pulled out the two notes he'd found that morning in the Summers' kitchen, along with the grocery bags of tupperware containers. 

The first note was a brief one from Joyce, telling him to call if he had any questions whatsoever. The second note was longer and he smoothed it out on the table along with the small box that had been with it. 

Spike~  
Had to skip out early, so I didn't wake you. Couple things - to get through the night, don't drink anything for at least an hour before bed and use the bathroom just before going to sleep; don't invite anyone into your house; and be careful if you go out at night. There are all sorts of evil nasties out there and you probably know a few by name.  
Good luck,  
Buffy  
PS In the box is a little something for protection.

Spike opened the box for the second time that day and took out the small, plain, gold cross necklace. He unhooked the clasp and put it on, tucking it under his shirt. He was still amazed when it didn't burn him and even more so that the Slayer was concerned for his safety. 

Standing, he picked the note up and put it and the phone numbers on the refrigerator using the magnets the family who had owned the house had used. Taking a step back, he surveyed the letter magnets that had been put together one drunken night months ago and hadn't been changed. He reached out and straightened the ‘f' and the ‘v' in the words ‘I love Buffy,' then returned to unpacking the food that Joyce had sent with him from the bags. 

 

*****

 

"I wonder how Spike is," Buffy said as she did pushups on the front lawn of the school. She was still undergoing Wesley's physical fitness testing with Faith and finally admitted to herself that she did want to do better than the other Slayer. 

"Did you know that you've asked that question everyday for the past two weeks?" Willow said, flipping through her history textbook. "That would suggest that you're having serious thoughts about a certain blond vampire-no-more." 

"Am not," Buffy replied. 

"And what was your dream about last night?" Willow asked with a pointed look. 

Buffy looked up at the red head. "Well maybe I've been thinking about him. But just a little. I'm just worried about how he's doing." 

"And if he's still dreaming about you," she added. Buffy scowled at her. "Why don't you call him?" 

"No!" Buffy said forcefully, rolling onto her back to do some sit-ups. Willow arched her brow. "We're mortal enemies, I can't just call and ask what's what?" 

"I think you passed that mortal enemy stage when you had sex with him, Buffy," Willow pointed out. "Especially ‘cuz you liked it." 

"Will-" 

"And it gave you that ooey gooey tingly feeling in your toes," she went on without pause. "That slowly goes up your legs and makes you all goofy, like Angel use to make you feel." 

"Thank you for pointing that out, Will," Buffy said sarcastically, sitting up. "I so wanted to be reminded that my smoochies with Angel are less..." 

"Ooey gooey?" Willow supplied helpfully. 

"What ever happened to the time when the boys we thought about were basketball or football players, not creatures of the night or former ones?" 

"Or werewolves," Willow added with a grin. 

"Or werewolves," Buffy repeated. She picked at the grass and sighed. 

"Cheer up, Buffy. Maybe he'll call." 

"And the reason would be...?" 

"Um, he loves you so much he can't live another day without you?" Willow said. Buffy gave her a look. "Or maybe he wants to know how to make borscht." 

"Borscht?" 

Willow shrugged. "It could happen." 

 

*****

 

Spike stared at the microwave as the object inside started to spark. He yanked open the door and grabbed the Spaghettio's can, burning his fingers. "Ow!" he shouted as he dropped the hot metal, orange sauce and round noodles splattering everywhere. 

He swung around to grab the paper towels and ended up smashing his elbow on the corner of the refrigerator handle. Unbelievable pain shot up and down his arm, bringing tears to his eyes. "Bloody fucking hell," he ground out between clenched teeth, holding his elbow. 

The past two weeks had not gone well for Spike. He hurt himself more times than he could count, from stubbing his toe to paper cuts to static electric shocks, each sending pain which he had never felt before running through him. He'd taken more aspirin than recommended on the bottle and was lucky he didn't overdose. He also had to change the bed nine out of fourteen days, much to his anger. He really hated being human. 

The pain started to recede and he took a deep, calming breath. Stepping over the mess, he picked up the phone and dialed the number he was exceedingly familiar with. 

"Summers Gallery." 

"Hello, Joyce," Spike said into the phone, rubbing his elbow. "How goes the world of art?" 

"Hello, Spike," Joyce replied over the line, a smile in her voice as she said the second half to how they started all their conversations. "A little surreal with a bunch of still life thrown in." Spike had called her at work practically every day for a variety of reasons, usually to do with food. He had made her promise not to tell Buffy that he called, telling her that he felt like enough of an idiot without needing her daughter to know that fact. "What's on the menu for today?" 

Spike looked down at the can on the floor. "It was Spaghettio's," he replied. 

"Did you remember to take it out of the can?" 

"Hell," he swore softly, slumping back against the wall. "I forgot again. Maybe I should hire a bloody cook." 

"Not to worry, I whipped up a large dinner last night and I planned on sending you a care package," Joyce told him. "Complete with microwaving instructions." 

"What would I ever do without you?" Spike said. 

"Probably starve," she replied. 

He chuckled and was about to say something else when he heard knocking on the front door. "Excuse me a moment, Joyce, there's someone at the door." He put down the phone on the kitchen table, glancing at the clock to see that it was well past sunset. Putting on his ‘I'm still a big bad vampire' face, he opened the door. He recognized the minions that had gone to Brazil for him. "Hello, mates." 

"Spike," one of the vampires said. "We, uh...have that information for you." 

"Well, spit it out," Spike said, leaning against the open door, careful not to step past the invisible barrier. The vampires shifted nervously on their feet, looking at one another. Finally, one of them spoke. 

"Drusilla is dead," the vampire told him quickly, holding a sealed envelope out towards the blond. "We found this at her lair. It's addressed to you." 

Spike reached his hand out and took the letter from the vampire, his expression unchanging. "Are you sure?" 

"Yes," he answered. 

Spike nodded and stepped back, clutching the envelope in his hand, his eyes tracing the dark letters on it. "Thanks," he said quietly before closing the door on them. 

Suddenly, his heart felt like someone reached into his chest and was crushing it. His throat tightened and a large lump formed in it. He slowly walked back into the kitchen and picked up the phone. "I'm back," he said, swallowing heavily. 

"Who was it?" Joyce asked. 

"Dru-," he got out before his throat closed up. His entire chest now felt as though someone were sitting on it as his eyes began to fill with water. 

"Spike?" 

Spike sucked air in through his mouth, making a high pitched squeak as his lower lip began to tremble uncontrollable. The muscles in his stomach started to quiver and he squeezed his eyes shut, his head lowering. He held the phone tightly in one hand, the letter in the other as the tears started to flow. 

"Spike, dear, what's wrong?" Joyce asked concerned as she heard what sounded like him crying. "Did something happen to Drusilla?" 

With the sound of her name, the dam broke. Spike started to cry deep, wracking sobs preventing him from breathing. His Princess, his Black Queen, his Ripe Wicked Plum was gone. His entire body was tense and trembling as grief overtook him. 

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Joyce said. 

"No," Spike got out, sucking in sharp breaths of air. "Don't." 

"But-" 

"No," he repeated a little more firmly. He looked up at the ceiling as he calmed. 

"If you're sure," Joyce said. 

"I-I'll call you later," he said, then hung up the phone. On automation, he walked to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. After a few moments, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, then shakily opened the envelope.

To My Spike~  
The bad man made me see inside you and tell him what was the very worst thing he could do to you. I was able to tell him a fib. I told him that you could never survive as a mortal again. I hope you are not unhappy with me. I know he will make you human and you will hate it, but he will not kill the Slayer you love. Now I have to go so I can hide this before he comes back. The stars tell me that I did good. I love you, my Spike. Take care of her like you took care of me. If you see Daddy, tell him I was a good girl. And tell Miss Edith I will miss her.  
Am I still your Princess?

"Yeah, baby, you are," Spike whispered as he finished the letter. He curled up on the bed, clutching the paper to his chest as the tears began to fall again. 

 

*****

Part Ten

 

Spike didn't move until he absolutely had to, only to quickly use the restroom then return to the bed to stare up at the ceiling. His tears had stopped hours ago to be replaced by a numbness that encompassed his entire body. The phone had rang several times, but he let the machine pick it up. Each time, it was Joyce's worried voice that came over the speaker from its place on the desk.   
He did not know how long he stayed like that, but eventually the tears came again. Afterwards, he managed to get up and splash cold water on his face before he picked up the phone. Looking at the digital clock display, he dialed the Summers' home number. 

"Hello?" Joyce said at the other end of the line. 

"It's me," Spike said in a dull tone. "Drusilla is dead." 

"Oh no," Joyce replied softly. "I'm so sorry." 

"Tell the Slayer it wasn't Dru," he told Joyce. "Tell her...tell her it was someone else." 

"Ok," she answered. "Do you want me to come down there?" 

"No," Spike said. "I'm going to go out for awhile."

"Be careful." 

"I will," he replied, then hung up the phone. Standing, he slid on his duster, picked up the letter and silently made his way out of his house. 

He walked for hours, avoiding potentially dangerous areas before entering the bar he frequented. He took a seat at the counter and was poured a drink without having to ask. He slammed it back, the alcohol burning a fiery trail as he pulled the letter out of his pocket. He rubbed his fingers over the letters and felt the tears again. Squeezing his eyes shut, he forced them back, then proceeded to drink himself into oblivion. 

 

*****

 

The past few weeks had passed by in a blur for Spike. He's gotten sympathy cards from Willow, Oz, Buffy and Joyce and spoke with both Oz and Joyce numerous times, but mostly he sat and stared at nothing or cried. That morning, however, he had woken up freezing and nothing he did seemed to warm him up. His entire body shook and he had trouble focusing on anything. 

He finally had to get up to use the bathroom and regretted it instantly. His knees collapsed from under him, sending him falling to the floor. Then, his stomach flip flopped and he threw up for the first time in centuries, making a mess of himself and the floor. He managed to crawl to the bathroom before he did it again, barely getting his head above the toilet. He was very glad at that moment that he never put the seat down. 

Somehow, Spike had been able to stand long enough to brush his teeth and relieve himself. He had gotten back into bed wishing he would die. He wasn't able to stop trembling and the tears came and went for no reason. Each breath he took was shaky, his mouth was bone dry and he couldn't breathe through his nose. With a trembling hand, he grabbed the portable phone from the night stand and dialed. 

"House of Buffy, how do you want your potatoes?" 

"Slayer," Spike said in a weak voice. 

"Spike?" Buffy replied on the other end of the line. 

"Something's." He paused to take a shaky breath. "Wrong with me." 

"What is it? What's wrong?" Buffy asked, her voice instantly concerned. 

"Don't know," he replied. "Hurts." 

"What hurts?" 

He took another deep breath and felt his stomach turn over. "Help," he said in a teary voice. "Please?" Tears started to fall down his cheeks as he swallowed what little saliva he had in his mouth. 

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Buffy said, hanging up the phone. Spike hit the disconnect button on the portable and let it fall onto the bed next to him as he curled up into a fetal position, wrapping his arms around his waist. 

 

*****

 

"Spike?" Buffy called as she, Willow and Oz entered the house after finding it unlocked. The Slayerettes had been at her house when she received Spike's call, and Oz offered to drive her down immediately. They made record time getting to LA and, using the address she'd dug out of her mom's address book, they found the house in a semi-nice area of the city. 

"Nice house," Willow commented as they entered the great room. She could see a kitchen just beyond the large room, a set of stairs dividing the two with a powder room underneath them. 

"Stay here," Buffy instructed, moving to the stairs. She quickly, but quietly, made her way up them and found herself in a sitting room with three doors jutting off of it, one leading to a bathroom, the second leading to a child's bedroom and the final one leading to the master suite. "Spike?" 

Spike heard his name being called and he tried to focus. His body was covered with sweat, but he couldn't seem to get warm. In fact, he couldn't even move anymore. His breathing was shaky and exclusively through his mouth. 

Buffy saw him curled up under the covers in the semi-dark and she cautiously crept over to the bed, wary of any attack just in case. "I'm going to turn on the light," she said, reaching over to the lamp on the night stand. She waited for an answer, and upon not receiving one, turned it on. When she saw Spike's paler than normal face, she let out a small gasp, then gently reached forward to brush his sweat soaked hair back off his forehead. "Spike, I'm here." 

His forehead was burning to the touch and his skin felt slightly clammy. She crouched next to the bed so she was eye level with him, her fingers gently stroking his hair. She could see a glazed look in his eyes as they barely opened to peer at her. "Hi," she said softly. "I think someone is sick." 

"Make it stop," Spike said with a shaky voice. The tears started to well in his eyes again, blurring the petite blond Slayer even more. 

"Hey now, don't cry," Buffy said to him. "I'm going to find a thermometer so we can take your temperature, ok? I'll be right back." She stood and picked up the phone from the bed, turning it on and dialing as she walked. She barely avoided stepping in the mess on the carpet as she headed for the bathroom. 

"Summers Gallery." 

"Mom, he's not hurt, he's sick," Buffy said into the phone as she began searching the medicine cabinet. 

"How bad?" Joyce asked over the line, concerned. 

"So far I've seen evidence of major yakking, he's burning up and he's all sweaty," she replied. Finding her prize, she made her way back to the bed. "Hold on, mom." Buffy put the phone down and opened the electronic thermometer. "Spike, you need to put this under your tongue, ok?" 

Spike barely had the energy to do as asked, so Buffy held the instrument as she picked the phone back up. "Do you still have Dr. Clark's number?" 

"Do you think you'll need it?" 

"Don't know," she replied, waiting for the beep. "But I better get it just in case. He's open on Saturdays if I'm remembering right." 

"Yes, he is," Joyce answered. "Got some paper?" 

"Yeah, hold on," Buffy said, holding the phone with her shoulder to grab the paper sitting on the night stand and the pencil that was holding her hair up. "Go ahead." 

"798-4339," Joyce recited as Buffy wrote awkwardly on the paper. The thermometer beeped at her and she removed it from his mouth, holding it up so she could read the numbers. 

"Oh boy," she said. "He's definitely a sicko. His temp is 103.7." 

"Call the doctor," Joyce instructed. "I'll come down as soon as I can find someone to hold down the fort here at the gallery." 

"No, you don't need to. I have Oz and Willow's help. I'll call if I have questions." 

"Are you sure? It's no problem..." 

"Mom, you're having that special showing this weekend. No, you stay, I can deal," Buffy told her. 

"Ok. Call me and let me know how he's doing," Joyce replied. 

"Will do," she said. "Bye." 

Buffy disconnected, then immediately dialed the doctor's office. After receiving instructions on what to do and scheduling an emergency appointment, she hung up and looked at the former vampire. Setting the phone, paper and pen down, she reached out and gently touched his cheek. "Spike, we need to get you into a bath, ok? Then we're going to the doctor's. You're going to be better soon, I promise." 

Spike licked his dry lips. "Ok," he replied in a whisper. He felt the telltale sign that he was going to heave and he started to pant. "Up, up." 

Buffy immediately stood, knowing what was about to happen and helped him from the bed, practically carrying him to the bathroom. She held his forehead as he threw up in the toilet, rubbing his sweat soaked T-shirt covered back with her other hand. "Any more?" she asked quietly as he lay his cheek against the cold rim. 

"I don't think so," Spike mumbled. 

She stood and got a cup of water for him, then took the towel from off the shower rod and spread it out on the floor behind him. After taking the empty cup from his limp hand, she wiped his mouth with some toilet paper, then helped him to lay down on the floor. "You just stay here, ok?" 

He nodded slightly, curling up again as she lay a second towel over him. Buffy wiped off the toilet, then flushed before heading out of the bathroom and back downstairs. "Guys, Spike's just a tad bit on the sick side," she told Willow and Oz, who were sitting on the couch. 

"Anything we can do?" Willow asked. 

"Plenty," Buffy told her. "We need to get him into a cool bath, change his sheets, clean up the floor in the bedroom and take him to the doctor's office in an hour." 

"I'll get the floor," Oz said, rising. 

"I'll change the sheets, Buffy," Willow said, standing as well. 

Buffy smiled at her friends. "Thanks a lot, you two. Not many people would jump at the chance to take care of a sick former enemy." 

Oz and Willow exchanged looks, silently communicating as couples do. "What are friends for?" Willow said. 

"Besides, I like the guy," Oz added before heading off to find cleaning supplies. 

Buffy frowned at Willow. "What was the looks for?" she asked as they went up the stairs. 

"Oz has been talking to Spike on the phone a lot, especially since Drusilla died," Willow told her. "They're friends, in a ‘I don't see you, but you're still cool' kinda way."

"Oh," Buffy replied, finding sheets in the linen closet in the main bathroom. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" 

"It never came up," Willow shrugged as she followed Buffy into the bedroom. She glanced at the floor and wrinkled her nose. "Fun." 

Buffy giggled quietly. Willow started to change the sheets as Buffy dug around the dressers to find some comfy clothes for Spike to wear to the doctor's, Oz coming into the room in the middle to start working on the floor. Willow then took the dirty ones to the laundry room as the Slayer went back into the extra-large master bathroom. 

She looked down at Spike lying on the floor and felt a wave of tenderness wash over her. She turned on the tap water in the tub, then returned to the bedroom to retrieve the lamp from the other night stand. Bringing it to the bathroom, she set it down in the back corner on the sink and plugged it. Turning it on, she was glad to note that it softly illuminated the room without being overly harsh, allowing her to see better than from just the light coming from the bedroom. 

"Buffy, Willow and I will be downstairs if you need us," Oz said into the bathroom as he finished with the floor. 

Buffy nodded and closed the bathroom door as the guitarist walked away. Turning off the tap, she knelt on the floor next to the non-moving Spike. "Spike, you need to sit up," she said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Spike blinked groggily, his mind fuzzy as slowly pushed himself to a sitting position with Buffy's help. He looked over at her with bleary eyes. "I don't feel good," he told her. 

Buffy's lips quirked into a smile. "I know," she said, grasping the edges of his T-shirt. "Arms up." His arms barely raised as she pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it into the corner. She put the towel that was covering him back on the shower bar, then shut the toilet seat lid and helped him to sit on it. "Spike, I'm going to get you into the bathtub, but first we need to get off these shorts, ok?" 

He nodded a little, breathing slowly through his mouth as he grasped her shoulders and lifted his hips slightly. Buffy pulled the shorts off of him, trying hard not to look and stood. She put his arm around her shoulder and helped him to his feet, then into the tub. He leaned back, his eyes closed and sighed as the water warmed and cooled him at the same time. 

Buffy grinned at the small, happy smile on Spike's face and grabbed a washcloth and soap. She saw that he was wearing the small, gold cross she'd given him and her smile grew. "Ready to feel better?" 

Spike turned his head in her direction, looking at her under heavy lids. "You are so wonderful," he whispered. "So bloody wonderful." 

"What else would I be?" Buffy teased quietly, gently washing him. She was careful not to jar him in any way, having been this sick before. She watched as his eyes drifted shut again. After a few more minutes, she called his name. "Spike, time to get out." 

"Ok," he replied, pushing himself to his feet with her help. Buffy got him out of the tub and dried him off with the towel as he leaned against the sink. Then, she helped him dress before putting her arm around his waist and escorting him from the bathroom to the bed, tucking him under the clean, cool sheets. He sighed and snuggled down against the pillow, then smiled up at the Slayer who was sitting on the edge of the bed. "I feel better." 

"Rest," Buffy told him, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "We'll be leaving for the doctor's in about twenty minutes, ok? 

"Love you," he mumbled in response, already drifting off before she even straightened. 

Buffy smiled softly down at him. "I know." 

 

 

Part Eleven

 

 

Buffy grabbed the paper off the night stand with the doctor's phone number on it, then silently left the bedroom. Going downstairs, she found Oz and Willow in the kitchen doing the dishes. "We have about twenty minutes, guys," she told them as she sat at the table. She saw the letter magnets on the refrigerator and smiled. 

Willow noticed what her best friend was looking at and smiled as well. "Someone has it real bad for you, Buffy." 

"Weird, huh?" Buffy replied. "I wonder how long he's felt this way." 

"Since August of last year," Oz answered offhandedly. Buffy arched her brow at him and he shrugged. "We're friends." 

"What about you?" Willow asked her pointedly. "Have you decided to explore the ooshy side of Spike?" 

"Ooshy side?" Buffy repeated with a grin. "I barely even know him." 

"That didn't stop him from falling in love with you," Willow said, drying another dish. 

"But I love Angel." 

"But you can't have Angel," Willow stated. "Not in the all important having way. Plus, you said it yourself, you don't get that tingly feeling with him anymore. Maybe your love for him changed." 

Buffy sighed. "You sound just like him," she said. "We had this whole I still love you, but it's ok to move on to someone else talk. However, I don't think he had Spike in mind." 

"Well, we're graduating soon," Willow said. "Then you'll be down here for the summer with your dad. Which means..." 

"Which means I can get to know Spike, yada, yada, yada," Buffy finished. She shook her head and stood. "I'm going to hit the ladies, then we should probably get going." The couple nodded and she went around the stairs to the powder room beneath them. 

Closing the door behind her, she leaned back against it and closed her eyes. "Come on, Buffy. Second time's the charm, right?" she asked herself as she pulled a foil wrapped item from the inner pocket of her coat. A few minutes later, the Slayer swore for the second time since she woke up that morning as stared at the little blue line. She wasn't sure before, but she there was no mistake now. 

Buffy was pregnant. 

 

*****

 

"That's it, we're almost there," Buffy said as she led Spike into the doctor's office. The weak and pale former vampire leaned heavily on her as they walked, Willow assisting by getting the doors as Oz went to park the van. 

After settling Spike into a chair, the two girls went to the nurses station to check in and fill out any paperwork. The medical questionnaire was a hoot to them, seeing as how he had only been human for six weeks. They basically put none to every question and named him Spike Williams. No insurance information was necessary since they were paying with the cash Buffy had found in his wallet. 

The nurse called Spike's name, and Buffy half-carried him to a room, stripping off his duster and helping him up on the examining table. Groaning, he put his arm over his eyes as he laid back on the white paper, the other over his stomach after the nurse took his temperature and blood pressure. Buffy sat in the provided chair, coat across her lap and flipped through a very old magazine. 

"Hello, Buffy," Dr. Clark greeted as he came into the room with a chart. "It's been awhile since I last saw you." 

"Hi, Dr. Clark," Buffy returned the greeting. "What can I say, I've been healthy as a horse." 

Dr. Clark smiled at her, then looked down at the chart. "It looks like your friend Spike is rather sick." 

"That he most definitely is," she replied, standing and walking to Spike's side. "Spike, the doctor is here," she said quietly, touching his arm. 

"Tell him to kill me," Spike said weakly, causing the two in the room to chuckle. 

"You don't have to sit up, Spike," Dr. Clark said as he put the stethoscope in his ears. Buffy moved back to her chair as the examination began. After several minutes, the doctor started making notes in the chart. "He's going to need some blood work done and I'm going to prescribe Penicillin for now." 

"Is that the pink stuff?" Buffy asked. 

"That's the pink stuff," Dr. Clark replied with a smile. "One tablespoon three times a day until empty or otherwise notified." He ripped off the prescription from the pad, handing it to her with the lab sheets. "Take him around the corner to the lab for these tests. Your friend should feel better once the medicine takes effect. Until then, plenty of bed rest and liquids. And see if he can eat something, like crackers, toast, Jell-o or even soup." 

"Thanks," Buffy said. The doctor nodded and left. Standing, the Slayer went over to Spike again. "Spike, time to move again." 

"No," Spike replied. 

Buffy chuckled. "Yes. You have to get some blood tests done, then we can get you home and to bed again." 

"I like B positive," he muttered as he slowly sat up. With Buffy's help, they made there way to the lab. Luckily, there was no waiting and she was able to sit him right in the drawing table. He frowned at the technician who pushed up his sleeve and tied a rubber hose around his arm. "What are you doing?" 

"Spike, he's going to draw blood," Buffy explained from next to him. 

Spike watched wide eyed as the technician wiped his inner elbow with alcohol, then hold up a needle. When he stuck it in the peroxide blond's vein, Spike flinched. "Ouch! That bloody hurts, you wanker." 

"Sorry, sir," the technician said, changing the test tube on the end of the needle. "Doctor's orders." 

Spike turned to Buffy, who shook her head in affirmation. "I hate being human," he hissed at her, his stomach becoming queasy. 

"I know," she said, putting her hand on his other arm. "You're almost done. Then we'll go home." 

"Before or after I heave?" 

 

*****

 

Spike managed not to heave and was now tucked back into bed, glass of ginger ale with a straw next to him on the night stand. The couple went out to get his prescription and a few other things while Buffy made him some toast and jelly. "Here," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed with a paper plate. She tucked a napkin in the collar of his shirt, then spread it over his chest. "See if you can get this down." 

"Thanks," Spike replied, picking up a piece of toast and biting into it. The grape jelly on the bread tasted delicious and went down easily. He chewed slowly while looking at her thoughtfully. "Why are you being so good to me?" 

Buffy gave him a small smile and a shrug. "You asked for help, I'm helping," she replied. 

"What ever happened to that whole ‘we're two mortal enemies' thing?" 

"It's hard to be mortal enemies when one half of the two mortal enemies is in love with the other half," she said, giving him a pointed look. 

Spike started to blush, bringing color to his excessively pale cheeks. "Yeah, right. Who told you that?" 

"Your refrigerator," Buffy replied with a grin. He looked down at the toast on the plate in his lap. "You also talk in your sleep." 

"Bugger," he whispered. 

"Bubble bath?" she teased. 

Spike looked everywhere but at her, his embarrassment overriding his feeling of sickness. He had never wanted her to find out, even made Oz promise not to say anything to Willow. She loved Angel, not him, and he didn't want to have her knowing because that would make it worse having her choose his sire over him. "Um, you weren't suppose to know about that." 

"The bubble bath?" 

"No, the-the...bloody hell," he said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. His stomach churned at the action. He swallowed heavily, feeling nauseous. He bit his lower lip, trying to force the feeling away. It didn't work. 

His hand flew up to his mouth and he gave her a wide-eyed look, his face becoming deathly white. Shoving the covers and plate off his lap, he shot to his feet as Buffy moved out of the way, sprinting to the bathroom. She was right behind him as he lost what little he had in his stomach, holding his forehead and rubbing his back as she did earlier that day. 

Breathing heavily over the toilet water, Spike felt the tears start again. Being sick was worse than feeling the bloodlust after nights of not feeding when he was still a vampire. For a moment, he cursed Drusilla for doing this to him, then grief washed over him about her death and what she had done for him, and he started to cry for real. 

"Hey, it's ok," Buffy said, still rubbing his back. "Oz and Willow will be back with the medicine soon." 

His sobs only grew, making him dry heave. He sucked in huge gulps of air, hiccuping and making a slight squeaking sound through his closed throat. He then felt himself being pulled against Buffy, who was kneeling at his side. She wrapped one arm around his shoulders, the other held his head to her chest as she murmured comforting words. 

Spike didn't know how long they stayed like that before the tears ran out, leaving him feeling like he had no energy in his entire body. Willow and Oz must have returned because Buffy was talking to someone above his head. 

"Thanks," Buffy said. "If you could call Giles, that would be great." Willow nodded before leaving the bathroom. She looked down at the top of Spike's blond head. "Are you ok?" she asked quietly. 

Spike pulled away from her, wiping his face with the back of his sleeve. "This is bloody embarrassing." 

"Don't be," Buffy told him. "Humans get sick, it's a fact of life." 

"You don't," he muttered. 

"Do, too," she replied. "Only thing is, I get to kill things while I'm sick. You only have to get better." She stood and picked up the washcloth she used earlier, wetting it with cool water. Putting the toilet lid down, she helped him onto it then began gently wiping his face with the cloth. "Feel good?" 

Spike nodded. She finished up, then gave him his toothbrush, helping him stand by the sink. When he finished, she gave him a modicum of privacy as he went to the bathroom, then assisted him back to bed. She picked up the pink bottle of medicine on the night stand, measuring out a tablespoon in the cup provided and handing it to him. "The pink stuff tastes good," she commented as he quaffed it. 

Standing, she pulled the covers up to his chin, then leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "Get some sleep," Buffy said softly, her eyes tender. "If you need me, just ring the bell on the night stand. I'll be up in a little while to check on you." 

She picked up the Penicillin and small cup, then switched off the lamp, leaving the only illumination coming from the lamp she put in the bathroom earlier. She was almost out the door when he spoke. "Slayer?" 

"Yeah?" Buffy said, pausing in the doorway and looking back at him. 

"Thank you." 

"Get better, Spike. It's no fun to tease you when you're sick," she replied. She gave him a small smile, then left the room. 

 

*****

Part Twelve

 

 

After putting the Penicillin in the fridge, Buffy joined the couple on the couch in front of the television. Oz leaned forward and picked a plastic bag off the floor and handed it to her. "What's this?" 

"We figured we were staying overnight," Willow explained. "So we picked up some clothes and stuff for you and me while we were out. Oz had a change of clothes in the van." 

"Spike told me once the couch in the upstairs sitting room folds out," Oz said. "And there's a trundle bed in the small bedroom." 

"You guys don't have to stay," Buffy told them. 

"We know," Willow replied. "But we want to. Plus, we get to play in this cool house." 

Buffy looked around the large room, taking in the large entertainment center, shelves upon shelves of books, movies and CDs lining the surrounding walls. Two overstuffed couches, end tables, a coffee table and a rocking chair sat in front of the entertainment center. Plants, freestanding lamps and artwork decorated the great room. The several windows in the room were boarded over from the inside and a baby grand piano was sitting in front of black spray painted French doors. In one corner, she saw a toy chest with a wooden rocking horse near it. "I don't want to know how he got this house," she commented, thinking about the children's room she saw upstairs. 

"He bought it for a hundred bucks," Oz said. Buffy looked at him as if he had grown two heads. "He met a guy in a bar whose wife and kid died in a car accident. The guy wanted to escape, but couldn't because of all the bills and the house, so Spike bought it from him and agreed to pay off all of his debts. I guess the two of them passed out here and when Spike got up the next night, the dude was gone only taking his clothes and photos." 

"You're kidding," Buffy said. Oz shook his head no. "How in the world does he pay for it then, the bills and the mortgage and electricity and whatever else?" 

"He's a hacker," Willow answered with a grin and an excited bounce. "He's way better than me, too." 

"What did he do? Rob a bank online?" 

"No," Oz replied. "What he did was ingenious, actually. He picked several overly large companies that make electronic business transactions daily, then routed one cent from random deposits to his own accounts set up all over the world." 

"One cent? That's not very much," Buffy said. 

"Multiply that one cent by the number of deposits made per day, then by the number of companies," Willow explained. "He's making close to $100,000 a day! I can't wait to go downstairs and check out his computer." 

Buffy's mouth dropped open. "Wow." A loud knock sounded on the door, making her jump. Oz rose to his feet and ambled to it. 

"Pizza's here," Willow told her, standing as well to go to the kitchen to get napkins and drinks. 

Oz returned with the pizza and set it on the coffee table, then joined Willow on the second couch. "Dig in," he instructed, opening the box. 

After a few minutes of eating, Buffy looked thoughtfully at her friends. "You guys seem to know an awful lot about Spike." 

"We're friends," Oz repeated the statement he made earlier. 

"But why?" 

"He called to ask a question and we got to talking," Oz answered Buffy. "He's cool." 

"And Oz tells me stuff," Willow added, smiling at her boyfriend. 

"I thought you told me stuff, too, Will," Buffy said. 

"I promised Oz I wouldn't," Willow told her. "Spike's kind of a private person."

"Actually, the cat has already escaped the bag," Oz said. 

"What?" Buffy asked, confused. 

"You know that he loves you," Oz replied. "And his refrigerator seems to, as well." 

Willow tittered and Buffy rolled her eyes. "Why would it be a big secret if you already knew because Willow knew that I knew that he loved me and boy that was a mouthful," Buffy said to Oz. 

"Angel," Willow answered for the werewolf. 

"Oh," Buffy said softly, eyes on the pizza in her hand. 

"What are you going to do, Buffy?" Willow asked her best friend. 

"I'm going to help Spike get better, then get to know him better," Buffy replied, taking a bite. 

"How much better?" Willow said mischievously. 

Buffy choked on her pizza. "Willow!" 

 

*****

 

Willow and Oz had disappeared into the basement to play with Spike's computer and the Slayer prowled around the house a few hours later. Buffy had gone to check up on the sick former vampire to find him sleeping peacefully, then cleaned up the remnants of dinner. Now she was standing in the smaller bedroom that had been set up for a child. 

Her eyes lit on the toys in the room, the teddy bear wallpaper, the little table and chairs. The man who owned the house must have had a little girl because of the princess costume she'd found in the closet, the rest of the clothes being boxed up and on the floor in the large walk-in. 

Buffy sat on the edge of the bed, her heart sad from the loss the man must have felt. Then, she lifted up her tank top and looked down at her belly. Growing in her womb was a child who would one day have a room like this. She put her hand over her lower abdomen, thinking about the tiny life inside of her. Her baby. Spike's baby. 

Smiling softly, she stood and walked to the master bedroom. Spike lay on his stomach, the covers having been kicked down to his waist, the T-shirt he was wearing bunched under him. Buffy went over to the bed and sat, gently smoothing his sleep-tussled hair back from his forehead. She studied his peaceful features and thought back to the times she'd interacted with him the year before. 

From the moment she had seen him in the school, she had known she'd met her match. He was as strong as her, if not more so, witty, sarcastic and full of life. She giggled quietly as she remembered how he told her he messed up her doilies. Then she recalled the look of panic and fear in his eyes when she held a stake to Drusilla's heart. The love he had for the vampiress had been true and real, making her doubt that vampires did not have souls. 

Then came the day he asked for her help. To save the world and his princess. Granted, his motives were not sterling, but the fact he had come to his mortal enemy spake of his conviction to stopping Angel and his love of Drusilla. Buffy remembered feeling the tension walking back to her house with him, as if something was under her skin, itching to get out. At the time, she thought it was because what she really wanted to do was kill him. Now, she was not so sure. 

Buffy had to admit that she did think of Spike every once in awhile after she had run away, then returned to Sunnydale. She wondered if he and Drusilla were the happy couple once more, if he did indeed leave the country as promised, if he knew of the sacrifice she made to save this world and his love. 

Then he appeared drunk and heartbroken back in Sunnydale. He was pathetic and annoying and utterly infuriating. However, he spoke the truth about her and Angel, that they would love each other until they died, but could never be just friends. And he was right, she would always love Angel, she could just no longer be in love with him. Just like Spike would always love Drusilla, even though he now loved her. 

Her mind lit upon something Oz told her earlier and she frowned. "August? But that would be before he came back hurting over Drusilla," she said to herself. Then she thought about what Willow had said about the Chaos Demon and the vampiress, and pieced together that perhaps Drusilla had turned to someone else because Spike had done so, whether he knew it or not. 

Spike muttered something unintelligible in his sleep, shaking her from her memories. Buffy lightly traced his scar with her finger. "I guess you're dreams weren't that far off," she whispered. He stirred slightly and she stood, quickly leaving the room. She sat down on the couch in the sitting room, curling her feet under her and looking at the boarded up window. 

*What am I going to do?* Buffy thought, one hand rubbing her lower abdomen gently. *Who ever heard of a pregnant Slayer? And what do I tell Spike? Or Angel? I don't think ‘hi honey, I got knocked up by the vampire turned human you loathe. Yes, I know you have to have sex to get pregnant.' I can see that going over well.* 

She sighed, laying her head down on her arm. *Maybe I just won't say anything until I absolutely have to. My luck, I'll lose the child anyway from my slaying duties.* With that depressing thought, the Slayer drifted off to sleep. 

 

 

Part Thirteen

 

 

Buffy woke when she heard Willow and Oz come up the stairs. "Hey, guys," she greeted groggily. "What time is it?"

"Ten," Willow answered. "We came up to get the beds ready." She frowned, not completely awake yet. "Beds? Sleeping? You know, that thing you do when you're tired?" 

"Sleeping, got it," Buffy replied, swinging to her feet, then stopping. "Um, where are we doing this sleeping thing?" 

"Will and I will take the kids's room, you can have the couch out here," Oz said. "It folds out. Still." 

"Oh, right, you told me that already," Buffy said. "I'm gonna...go...and, uh, get Spike's medicine." 

As she went down the stairs, Willow and Oz looked at each other. "What's up with Buffy?" 

"I don't know," Willow replied. "Maybe she's been having serious thoughts. Sometimes that happens." 

 

*****

 

Buffy stared into the refrigerator, her mind a million miles away. She had been dreaming so vividly and it was distressing. It could have been a portent or just a nightmare. She was hoping it was the latter. 

The images of the dream played out in her mind. Some man she'd never seen before going after Spike. Her shoving Spike out of the way, taking the knife that was intended for him. The pain and fear that she felt as she had curled into a ball, her arms wrapped around her swollen middle. Her telling Spike that she loved him, then everything going dark. 

She was shaken out of her thoughts by the sudden hum of the refrigerator as the motor went on. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the Penicillin then went back upstairs. "Spike," she said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed while switching on the lamp. "Time to take your medicine." 

Opening the bottle, she poured the pink liquid into the measuring cup, then set it on the night stand, accidentally knocking a book to the floor. Buffy ignored it for the moment and gently rubbed Spike's back, trying to wake him. "Spike, you need to wake up and take this." 

"Mmpph," Spike moaned into the pillow, barely opening his eyes. His head felt as though it was detached from his body and everything was functioning really slow. "Buffy?" 

"Hey," she said, still rubbing his back. "We need to get this medicine in you, ok?" 

He sighed heavily as he turned over, the sheets and his shirt twisting around his body. "This is no fun," he mumbled as he slowly pushed himself into a semi-sitting position. 

"I imagine it's not," Buffy told him, sliding the pillow behind him as he pushed himself up. She handed him the medicine. "Bottoms up." 

Spike gave her a look which consisted little more than letting his head loll towards her, accepting the cup. He quickly downed the pink stuff, then handed it back to her. "That'll make me feel better soon, right?" 

"Right," she grinned at the hopefulness in his voice. "It'll take a few days, though." 

"Bloody hell," he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. 

Buffy's smile grew and she bent to get the book from the floor. "I think I lost your place," she said, picking up the book and the piece of paper that was acting as a bookmark. She turned it over in her hand. ‘To My Spike.' "What's this?" 

"What's what, pet?" Spike asked, looking over at her. 

Her eyes widened as she read the letter, then she quickly stuck it in the book. "What? Oh, nothing." She put the book back on the night stand, then gave him a fake grin. "So, uh, how are you feeling?" 

Spike frowned. "Didn't we already cover that?" 

"Oh, er...sorry," Buffy said. "My mind is...not all here." 

"So I gathered," he replied. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and tried to twist it back into place. 

"Here," she said, taking the hem of his shirt. He arched up on his elbows, allowing her to straighten it out, then lightly patted his stomach. "There you go. All fixed." 

"Thanks," Spike breathed, relaxing back on the pillow. 

"Well, I'll let you get back to sleep," she said, straightening the rest of the sheets as she stood. 

"No, don't," he stopped her, putting his hand on her arm. "Would you...stay. For just a bit. We can do that talking thing humans are so good at." 

Buffy looked at the hopeful expression on his face and smiled genuinely, sitting back down on the bed with one leg tucked under her. "I can do that. In fact, talking is something I excel at, just ask my teachers." 

Spike chuckled quietly. There was a knock on the open door and they both looked over to see Willow and Oz standing there. "Can we come in?" Willow asked. He nodded and the two came around to the other side of the bed and took a seat, the werewolf pulling the desk chair up to the side.

"Hey, man," Oz said to him. "You're looking...sick." 

"Understatement, mate," Spike replied. 

"Before I forget," Willow began. "You have a really cool computer. Wow, think of all the stuff I could do if I had that setup." 

"Actually, that's kind of a scary thought," Oz joked. Willow wrinkled her nose at him. 

"That's right, " Buffy said, looking at Spike. "I heard you were quite the hacker." 

"Yeah, well," he blushed slightly. "I get bored." 

"And cracking codes or breaking into top secret government files is always a fun challenge," Willow said. "Well, at least, it is for me." 

"That's my juvenile delinquent," Oz said, squeezing her hand. "Although soon you won't be." 

"Eighteen," Willow sighed. "I can't wait. I get to vote and-and do other stuff that legal adults can do." 

"Luckily you're not me, or I'd tell you to try and avoid your birthday," Buffy said. 

"Why's that, ducks?" Spike asked her. 

"Buffy doesn't have very happy birthdays," Willow answered for the Slayer. "Things tend to go really bad for her." 

"Not that bad," Buffy said. Willow and Oz looked at her. "Ok, so I haven't had the best past three birthdays, but all the ones before that were good." 

"What made the last three bad?" Spike inquired. 

"Let's see, for my sixteenth birthday I failed the driving test," Buffy said. "Well, I didn't even get to do the driving part." 

"And on your seventeenth birthday, your surprise party was ruined by the Judge's arm," Willow continued. She turned to Oz. "That's the night you found out vampires existed." 

"Yes, I seem to recall that," Oz said. "I also seem to recall that was the night our friendly neighborhood vampire became not so friendly." 

Spike's eyes widened as he pieced together events in his mind from the year before. "You mean the great poofini lost his soul on your birthday?" 

Buffy picked at an invisible thread on her knee. "Great gift, huh?" She looked up and glowered at him. "Of course, if someone hadn't been trying to rid the world of humanity, it wouldn't have happened." 

Spike had the sense to look ashamed, but Willow came to his defense. "It still probably would have happened, Buffy," she said. "Just not necessarily on your birthday. You two were moving in that direction, remember? Carpe diem?" 

Buffy sighed. "I know. And I've blamed myself enough for what happened. But, that's in the past and...it's in the past." She made a face. "Moving on to this year's fiasco." 

"The powerless Slayer," Oz summarized. 

"Powerless?" Spike asked. 

"Buffy lost her super Slayer strength," Willow replied. "Well, not lost really. Just...misplaced." 

Spike arched his eyebrow at Buffy, waiting for the story. "The pompous assess that make up the Watcher's Council have a test for Slayers when they turn eighteen. They take away what makes us the Chosen few, lock us in a house with some big, scary monster and say good luck." 

He looked at her incredulously. "They sent you off to get killed?" 

"Pretty much a big yes to that one," Buffy replied. 

"But Buffy is one tough cookie," Willow said. "Like the ones they serve in the cafeteria." 

"The bloody bastards," he growled. "I'll rip their hearts out." 

"I don't think you're going anywhere, cowboy," Buffy said with a grin. "But thanks for the offer." 

"Pillocks," Spike scowled. He closed his eyes as a wave of sickness washed over him, swallowing heavily. 

"Want me to take you to the bathroom?" Buffy asked, noting his actions. He was going to say no, then thought better of it and nodded. 

"We'll get out of your hair," Willow said, standing as Buffy helped Spike out of bed. "See you in the morning." 

"‘Night Will, night Oz," Buffy replied. The couple left the bedroom as she led Spike slowly to the bathroom. The light from the small lamp was still glowing in the large room, and she had him lean against the sink as she laid the towel out on the floor again. "My mom use to do this for me," she said as she helped him onto the floor. "It was weird, but I always felt better laying on the bathroom floor when my stomach hurt." 

Spike didn't reply, feeling nauseous. He sat in front of the toilet and rested his forehead on the rim. After a few minutes, the feeling went away and he laid down, the softness of the towel rubbing against his cheek. He closed his eyes and cursed having a human body. 

"Spike, do you want me to stay?" Buffy asked quietly, sitting on her heels as she knelt by his head. 

"Please," he whispered in reply. 

"Ok," she said, changing her position so she was leaning up against the wall to the large bathtub. She listened as his breathing slowed shortly thereafter, evening out as he drifted back to sleep. As she did earlier, she lifted her shirt up, rolling it to expose her stomach, then unbuttoned her jeans. She laid one hand over the non-existent swell of her abdomen, trying to imagine a baby with bright, blue eyes. She smiled to herself as she looked over at Spike's sleeping form. "That's your daddy. He's a royal pain and was your mommy's enemy, but now he's your mommy's friend. Sort of. But maybe one day he'll be more." 

Spike turned over in his sleep so he was now facing her and she let her eyes trace over his features. He snuggled against the towel, his hands coming to rest up near his face. She felt the wave of tenderness wash over her again. "Maybe one day he'll be more." 

 

 

Part Fourteen

 

 

Spike came awake slowly, not too aware of his surroundings other than the fact that he wasn't in his bed. Opening his eyes, the first thing he focused on was Buffy laying a few feet from him by the tub wall, hand on her exposed stomach, sound asleep. He smiled at the sight, love bubbling up inside him rather than sickness. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, he rubbed a weary hand over his face, glad that he was feeling slightly better than he did the day before. 

Loathing to wake Buffy after all she'd done for him, he shakily stood, grabbed his toothbrush and made his way out of the master bath and bedroom to the other bathroom. When he came out, he saw Oz standing there waiting, looking sleep tussled. 

"Morning," Oz said, entering the bathroom after Spike vacated and closing the door behind him. 

"Morning, Spike," Willow greeted, coming out of the other bedroom before he could take two steps. "How are you feeling?" 

"Better than yesterday," he replied. He frowned at her. "I didn't know you were going to stay overnight." 

"You were in no condition to take care of yourself," Willow told him. "Probably still aren't. But you don't look as ghostly today. Not that you weren't pale before, what with your lack of sunshine for two centuries. But you were definitely white yesterday. Hungry?" 

"Yes," Spike said, mentally chuckling at her abrupt change of topic. 

"Toast and jelly sound good? Or how about just some crackers?" Willow asked. 

"I think I'll go with the crackers," he answered. 

"Ok. You get back into bed where you belong," she said, giving him a friendly push towards the master bedroom. "I'll bring it and your medicine up" 

"Yes, Nurse Willow," he replied in a little boy voice. Willow made a face at him, then went downstairs. He chuckled out loud this time and made his way back to his room. He paused as he put his toothbrush away, looking down at the sleeping Slayer. *That can't be comfortable,* he thought after a minute of just enjoying her beauty. Crouching, he tentatively reached his hand out to her bare skin, running his fingers lightly over it. "Slayer?" 

"It's your turn," Buffy muttered in her sleep. "I got up last time." 

Spike grinned. "Slayer, I think you want to get up before you get a crick in your neck." 

"He's your son, too," she mumbled in reply, curling further into a ball. 

"What?" Spike said, arching his brow. *She must be dreaming,* he thought, still rubbing her side in an attempts to wake her. *I wonder who she's talking to in the dream?* With the second thought, his eyes lit up. "Buffy, pet, who are you talking to?" 

"Hmm?" Buffy replied, coming awake. She wondered briefly why her bed was so hard, then she remembered she was at Spike's house, in particular the master bathroom. She felt a hand running slowly up and down her side and knew immediately who it was attached to by the comfortable tingling on her skin. "Morning, Spike. Did you ask me something?" 

"How did you know it was me?" Spike asked, disappointed that he didn't get to find out who she was dreaming about. 

"Talent," she replied, pushing herself to a sitting position and tugging her shirt down. "What are you doing up and about? You're sick. You should be in bed." 

"That's where I was going, luv," he said. "But I thought you'd be a happier Slayer if you didn't have a sore neck." 

"You're right," Buffy said, rising to her feet as Spike did the same. "There's nothing scarier than a cranky Slayer." 

"Except a cranky Witch," Willow said from the bathroom door, box of crackers and Penicillin in hand. She looked at Spike. "You. Bed." 

"I'm going," he grumbled, making the two girls laugh. "This being sick thing is for the bloody birds." 

Buffy took the thermometer out of the cabinet, then trailed Willow to the bedside as Spike climbed in. The red head set the items in her hand on the night stand. "I'm going downstairs to whip us up some breakfast," she told Buffy. "Want anything in particular?" 

"Whatever is fine," Buffy answered. "But you don't have to make anything." 

"Don't want to get cranky," she replied with a grin before leaving the bedroom. 

Buffy shook her head, then turned her attention to Spike. "Open," she instructed, holding up the thermometer. She stuck it under his tongue, then went about measuring the Penicillin. "I don't know what time we're leaving tonight, but you need to know that you take this much three times a day until it's all gone." 

Spike nodded, not speaking because of the object in his mouth. Buffy continued, "The doctor's office should call here on Monday with the results of your blood tests. They'll let you know if you need to be on any other medication. Willow and Oz got your prescription filled at Walgreens over on Eighth Street, Mr. Spike Williams." 

The thermometer beeped, and she removed it from his mouth, handing him the cup at the same time. "Mr. Spike Williams?" Spike said with an arch of his brow. 

"We didn't know what to put on the medical forms, so we named you that," Buffy explained. "Looks like you're fever has gone way down." 

"What's that for?" Spike asked, pointing to the thermometer. 

"Measuring your body temperature," Buffy answered. "You had almost a 104 degree fever yesterday and that's not a good thing." 

"What's it now?" 

"A little over 100," she replied. "Still sick, but not overly so. And if you ever get sick again, normal is around 98.6 degrees." 

"I thought that was a song," Spike said, grabbing the box of crackers and opening it. 

"What?" 

"98.6," he replied. At her confused look, he sang a few lyrics. "It's 98.6 and I know what your feeling, baby." 

"Oh," she said, giving him a small grin. "Never heard of it." 

"Not surprised," Spike said. "It's a bit before your time." 

"You sing good, even when you're sick," Buffy said before she could stop herself. She blushed slightly, then stood. "I'm gonna...go and uh, get cleaned up. For breakfast." 

"Come back later and keep me company?" Spike asked, picking up the book from the night stand. 

"Sure," she replied. "Maybe we'll dig out some cards and play a few hands with Willow and Oz." 

"Strip poker?" 

"You wish," Buffy said over her shoulder as she left the room. 

"Do I ever," Spike replied quietly. Then he grinned at the images in his mind and opened the book, settling back on the pillows to read. 

 

*****

 

The four friends played cards for several hours, Spike winning most of the time, until Buffy got fed up and threw the deck at him on her deal. Then they made the former vampire take a nap while the trio went downstairs to watch some television and eat a late lunch. Buffy called her mom to update her on Spike's illness, then had to let her talk to him herself. 

"Do you think you're going to be ok?" Buffy asked, sitting once again on the edge of the bed, saying goodbye. 

"I'll live," Spike replied, then grinned. "Didn't think I'd ever hear myself say that." 

Buffy laughed. "Your humor is back. I think you'll be just fine." 

He reached out suddenly and grabbed her hand. "I wanted to thank you, luv." 

"It's not necessary..." 

"Yes, it is," Spike insisted. "I don't know anyone who would have taken the time to care about an ex-enemy like you and your chums." 

"They're your friends, too, Spike," Buffy told him. "Don't be surprised if after graduation you suddenly find yourself with a houseful of guests." 

Spike looked nervous as he asked the next question. "Including you?" 

A smile stretched across Buffy's face. "Including me. But I'll be down here anyway for the summer with my dad." 

"Well, then we'll have to do something, the two of us," he said offhandedly. 

"Sounds like a plan," she replied. She stood and gave his had a squeeze. "Get better." 

"I will," he said. "Be careful, ok? I don't want my favorite Slayer hurt." 

"I'm only your favorite Slayer ‘cuz you love me," Buffy teased. Spike blushed bright red. "I'll be careful and leave now before you match Willow's hair." 

"Thanks bunches, Slayer," Spike growled at her. 

With a smile, she bent and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, surprising him. "Bye, Spike," she said, then turned and went out the door. 

He slowly smiled, bringing his fingers up to touch his lips while they were still burning from her kiss. 

 

 

*****

Part Fifteen

 

Angel sat outside Buffy's bedroom window, waiting for her to get home. He had some information for her about another ‘new power' arising in Sunnydale, which was the norm for the small suburb in California. Scanning the street from his perch, he looked both for her and for any trouble. He heard something coming from her room and he turned back to the window. Buffy was standing in front of her closet in only a towel. 

He went to tap on the window when she dropped said towel and stood in front of the mirror mounted on the inside of the closet door. He knew immediately he should leave or at least turn his head, but this was his goddess, his forbidden fruit, and he was not strong enough of a man for that. 

He watched as she turned one way, then the other, examining her body in the mirror. She then did something very odd, pushing her stomach out as far as she could and arching forward. It almost looked as though she were seeing what she would look like if she were pregnant. He frowned, shifting uncomfortably because of the tightness of his pants over his arousal. As she slipped on a extra large T-shirt, he jumped off the roof to take a walk and calm down before he talked to her. 

 

*****

 

Buffy sighed and sat down at her desk, tucking one leg under her as she pulled out her diary and a pen. Tucking her damp hair behind her ear, she uncapped the pen and flipped to a blank page. 

Monday, April 12, 1999 

My life is a soap opera. I fall in love, we make love, he becomes a psycho, I kill him, he returns from the dead, I still love him, his ‘childe' comes back and we have sex, now I'm pregnant. I think I saw this episode on All My Children. 

Pregnant. With child. Expecting. Simple words that mean life changing events. And it's happening to me. God, I don't know how I feel about this. I just confirmed that I was pregnant by the second test this weekend, and it's been over two months since my last period, over two months since Spike... 

I feel like I'm in a dream and any moment I'll wake up. But will I be relieved or disappointed if it is a dream? One minute, I'm like wow, a baby. The next, I want it to not be true, for it to just disappear and that maybe if I wish hard enough, the baby will be magickally gone. Back and forth, back and forth. I don't like it. 

But when it's quiet, when I'm looking down at my not-yet-swollen abdomen, my heart swells with love and pride and tenderness. I touch myself and I can almost feel the baby growing in me. My baby. Spike's baby. 

Spike. What am I going to do about him? He doesn't even know we had sex, let alone that I got pregnant. And it was only one time. That's all it took. I can't believe my mother was right. She's going to have major ‘I told you so' syndrome when I tell her. If I tell her. Maybe I'll just get an abortion. God, what am I going to do? I am so confused. 

I wonder if there have ever been any pregnant Slayers before. I know they usually die young, but maybe, just once, one of my predecessors had a child. What did she do? Did she still slay while pregnant? Did it make her fight harder or make her weaker? I could find this information out if I ask, but not Wesley. Definitely not Wesley. Giles would know, but would he be disappointed in me? Would he look at me like he did when he found I didn't tell him Angel had returned? It hurt so much. Giles means everything to me, just like my mom. I don't think I'd survive without him and not just because he was my Watcher. 

I am so screwed up. I'm glad I haven't been sick, yet. I've heard that morning sickness is a bitch. I am so not looking forward to that. Luckily, I won't start showing until after I graduate. Can you imagine the looks I'd get at school? They think I'm freaky enough as it is. 

God, I'm only eighteen. I have no job, no job skills, no money. I couldn't live off my mom forever. And what about college? I got those awesome SAT scores letting me choose anywhere I want to go to school and do something other than just be the Slayer. Plus, I can get all sorts of scholarships, too. My mom works too hard as it is to support us, I don't want to disappoint her. I am going to disappoint her anyway when I tell her, just like Giles and dad and my friends and Wesley (although I don't care too much about his opinion). 

Angel. What about him? He's going to be so hurt. We both know we can no longer be together, but still, for me to get pregnant now of all times? That's like saying I was lying when I told him I still loved him. But he's the one who would support me no matter what decision I made, he would be the one to tell me what to do. What should I do, Angel? 

Tap, tap, tap. 

Buffy up from her writing and over at the window to see Angel crouching there. "Speak of the devil," she said to herself as she closed her diary and went to open the window. "Hi." 

"Hi," Angel greeted, entering the bedroom. He studied her sad face and reached his hand out to brush a stray hair behind her ear. "What's wrong?" 

"Oh, Angel," Buffy said, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his chest. "I don't know what to do." She began to cry. 

"Shh," he comforted, holding her. "Whatever it is, I'll help you. You know that." 

Buffy forced herself to calm down and stepped away from him, wiping the tears from her face. "You better sit down," she told him. 

Dread settled over him as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. "What is it, Buffy?" 

She took a deep, shaky breath, looking at a spot on the floor. "I'm pregnant." 

"Oh," Angel said, feeling as though someone punched him in the gut. "Are you sure?" 

Buffy chuckled harshly. "I'm sure." 

"Who's the father?" 

"It's...some guy. One night stand," she partially lied, deciding not to tell him. And it was only one night. "Faith's influence." 

Angel nodded, not sure if he believed her or not. But he had seen how she had acted before the Deputy Mayor had been killed, so it was a possibility. "Have you told your mother, yet?" 

"No, you're the first," Buffy replied. "I don't know if I want to tell her or not. Or even if I want to have the baby. Is that wrong? God, I wish this was all just a nightmare and I would wake up already."

"You have to tell her, Buffy," Angel said, grabbing her hand and pulling her over to him. He pick up the other hand and held both loosely in his. "Rupert, too." 

"But..." 

"Buffy, if you do or don't decide to have the baby, you're going to need their support," he told her. "You'll always have mine."

"Thanks," she said, giving him a depressed smile. "I really needed to hear that." 

"Why don't you go tell your mom and I'll wait here for you," Angel suggested. 

"Can't. She went down to LA to pick up a new shipment and to check on Spike," Buffy replied. *Spike. Spike's baby. Ugh. What am I going to do?* 

"Then we'll go tell Rupert," he said, standing. 

Buffy looked at him pleadingly, but she knew he wouldn't budge. With a heavy sigh, she slid on a pair of jeans under the shirt she was wearing. "I so am not looking forward to this." 

"If it's any consolation, you aren't the first Slayer who's been pregnant," he told her. 

"Really? I was wondering about that," she said, putting on her shoes. "What happened with her?" 

"The ones that I know about...died before they could deliver or lost the baby," Angel answered her quietly. 

"Oh," Buffy replied, a horrible feeling of pain and sadness in her heart. She put her hand over her abdomen protectively while a voice in the back of her mind screamed NO! 

"Ready?" 

She nodded and followed him out of the house. They walked in silence down the tree lined streets as they headed for Giles' house. Buffy's mind was racing with what Angel had told her and the feelings the news evoked. As they walked down the stairs to her former Watcher's front door, she realized that she didn't want to lose the baby. She wanted it to be her choice, a choice that was already leaning towards her having the child. 

Angel knocked on the door, then went to stand behind the Slayer. Giles opened the door, one of his many books in hand and gave them both a puzzled and worried look. "What's wrong?" 

"Can we come in?" Buffy asked. 

"Of-of course," Giles replied, stepping aside to let them pass. Angel stayed off to one side as Buffy nervously wrung her hands as she stood in front of the couch. He looked first at the vampire, then at Buffy, noting their tense expressions. 

"Giles, I'm pregnant," Buffy suddenly blurt out. "I'm so sorry, I never meant to get pregnant. It was an accident. One time. And now I'm pregnant. With a baby." 

"I would assume with a-a baby," Giles said, not believing his ears. He looked over at Angel again, who nodded in affirmation. "Is-is-is-do-do you know the father?"

"I do, but he doesn't know," she replied, sinking down onto the couch. "I can't believe this." 

"I am leaning towards the unbelievable, as well," Giles told her, removing his glasses to rub his eyes. 

"Do you hate me?" 

"Do I what?" Giles asked, giving her an incredulous look. "Buffy, I could never hate you. This is-is a bit of discerning news, but you have my unequivocal support. You are not the first Slayer to become, er...preg-pregnant." 

"That's what Angel said," Buffy replied. "He also said that those girls died or the baby died." 

"W-Well, yes," he stammered. "But you are the most unconventional Slayer recorded. You have a support system that none of the others had, plus there are two Slayers now. Although Faith is-is not overly reliable. But I have no doubt that if you decided to have the child, you would." 

"Thanks, Giles," Buffy said, standing and giving him a rare hug. "So, what do I do now?" 

"That is up to you, Buffy," Giles said. "You must first decide if you are going to have the baby, then we will adjust your duties as necessary." 

"What about Wesley?" 

"Don't worry about that pil-...him," he replied. "Watcher training does include the issue of pregnancy." 

"Ok," she said. "Well, I guess I'll go back home now. I have lots of thinking to do." 

"I will see you at school tomorrow," Giles said, escorting the former couple to the door. 

"‘Night, Giles," she said as they left. 

A short while later, Angel dropped her at her house, then went on his way. The Slayer went up to her room and laid on her bed, her arms wrapped protectively around her. "What am I going to do?" 

 

*****

 

Angel crouched in front of the fireplace at the mansion, staring sightlessly into the flames. He still couldn't comprehend the fact that Buffy was pregnant. His Buffy. And he didn't even know by who, so that he could go out and pummel him for touching her. 

He knew that his thoughts were irrational seeing as he was the one who insisted she'd move on. He just hadn't expected her to move on so soon. It hurt. A lot. He felt as though his heart was being torn into little pieces by a demon's claw. 

Now his job of protecting her was going to become tenfold, for he was not only protecting the woman he loved, but her child as well. Angel had no doubt she would have the baby. She had learned how short life was and wanted to experience everything before she died, including being a mother, whether she realized it yet or not. He also knew that if she died, all her friends, including him, would ensure that her child would be loved and protected and knew how truly wonderful his or her mom had been. 

Angel sighed and stood, heading for his bedroom. His thoughts turned to the father of Buffy's child once more. *As long as it isn't Xander....* 

 

 

Part Sixteen

 

 

Spike hummed under his breath to the music blaring on his stereo. Bent over a large piece of paper on the coffee table, he added several more precisely placed dots with his black, felt-tip pen. Three weeks had gone by since he'd gotten ill and, except for the actual sickness part, he was beginning to enjoy being human. Being able to go out at anytime was wonderful, as was some of the food he had found. He especially liked ice creme sandwiches, although the chocolate cookie part tended to get stuck in his teeth. 

He had thoroughly adjusted to being awake during the day. Not that he hadn't been up during the day when he was still a vampire. Back then he usually was able to sleep for no more than two to three hours beside Drusilla before he'd be up and pacing around, bored out of his skull. Which was one of the reasons why he was so adept at many things - playing the piano, the guitar, hacking, drawing, speaking and reading several different languages and dancing, although that had usually been done with Dru. His love of music and reading also led him to unconsciously memorize most of what he read or heard. 

Most of the pictures he had drawn had been left behind when they had fled Prague. The others burned in the fire at the factory and he hadn't drawn any new ones when Angelus had been living with them. All his daytime hours had been spent building back the strength in his legs so he could walk again. 

This past week he'd gone out and bought art supplies, then with his stereo blasting, he'd set about recapturing his Princess on paper. After her came Oz and Willow standing next to each other in the sunlight with the shadows they cast being a werewolf and a female with an aura of power. He'd mailed it to Oz on Thursday as Willow's birthday present. 

Yesterday he had drawn a quick, evil one of his sire, which he put on the dart board in the basement. Then he started on Buffy. His first few were only sketches, trying to capture her many expressions and moods. Now he was working on a pen-dot portrait of her from one of the thumbnail pictures. 

Setting the pen aside, Spike stood and stretched the kinks out of his back from hunching over the table. Grabbing his coffee cup, he padded barefoot to the kitchen, singing along to the music. "Baby, if I think about you, I think about love. Darling, if I live without you, I live without love. And if I had the sun and moon and they were shining, I would give you both night and day love satisfying. Feel like making love. Yeah I feel like making love. Oh I feel like making love. Feel like making love to you." 

After refilling his mug with coffee, he had opened the fridge to grab something to eat when the doorbell rang. Snagging a handful of grapes, he popped one into his mouth as he went to answer the door. It was a good thing he'd been in the kitchen where the bell chime was located or he wouldn't have heard it. 

Spike opened the front door and blinked in surprise before a big smile came over his face. Popping another grape in his mouth, he stepped back and gestured for the blond to enter, then closed the door behind her. He went over to the end table and picked up the remote, turning down the volume on the stereo. 

"Loud much?" Buffy asked with a grin, dropping the bag she had over her shoulder to the floor behind the couch. 

"Music is meant to be played loud," he told her. He held out his hand. "Grape?" 

"Ooh, yum," Buffy said, snatching one and eating it. "You know what would go good with grapes? Chocolate syrup." 

Spike arched his eyebrow at that. "I think I have some in the fridge," he said, leading her in that direction. 

Buffy sat down at the kitchen table as he pulled out the bowl of grapes and chocolate syrup. He gave her a bowl, then watched as she smothered the green seedless grapes in chocolate before eating one. "Mmm," she said, chewing with her eyes closed, a heavenly look on her face. "Delicious." 

"Has anyone ever told you that you are a bloody strange girl?" Spike asked, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. 

"All the time," she replied with a smirk. 

"So, what brings you to my neck of the woods? Not that I'm not happy to see you," he added quickly. "Just curious." 

"Well...," Buffy began. She had planned on telling him about her condition this weekend, having decided to have the baby. But seeing him standing in front of her had removed all her bravery. "I uh...last time I was here...um...I accidently saw the letter from Drusilla," she finished with a quick lie. 

Spike paused with the mug halfway to his mouth. The familiar pain of grief came over him, but not as intense as it had been two months ago. Carefully, he set the cup on the counter, taking several silent, deep breaths before responding. "Why didn't you say anything?" 

"Well, you were sick and it was private," Buffy answered, scolding herself in her mind for being a chicken. "I was talking to Giles about your human-ness the other day and I told him about it." Which was true. "Then Willow got worried that whoever the man Drusilla was talking about was still after you." Which was also true, except for the part about Willow being the one who was worried. 

He frowned, then walked out of the kitchen. Buffy watched him leave with a puzzled look, then stood and followed him. He had seated himself on the couch and was working over something laid on the coffee table. "Spike?" 

"Yeah, pet?" 

"Did I say something wrong?" 

Spike sighed, looking up at her standing at the end of the couch. "I'm sorry, luv. Thinking about Dru...it still hurts." 

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't be," he replied and went back to the picture. 

Buffy sat on the couch next to him and squeezed his knee in sympathy, deciding to change the subject. "So, what'cha working on?" 

"You." 

"What?" Buffy asked confused. 

He chuckled and held up the unfinished paper. "You," he repeated. 

Buffy's eyes widened. What had looked like a bunch of dots close up formed a very familiar face. A face that was giving the viewer an exasperated look. "I look like that?" 

"All the time, pet, especially when you're looking at me," Spike replied with a grin. "Like you were annoyed with me or something to that effect." 

"When am I not annoyed with you?" Buffy teased as he set the paper back on the table. 

"See," he said, gesturing to the page. "Exactly." 

She shook her head and leaned back on the couch. "Another hidden talent. You know, with all the things you know how to do, you should have been too occupied to go out and terrorize people." 

"And lose out on all the literally bloody fun? Never." Buffy laughed and he added a few more pen dots before asking casually, "Staying for the weekend, ducks?" 

"If you want me," Buffy replied. 

Spike paused mid-dot as sexual excitement coursed through his body at her words. He swallowed heavily, then continued his action. "I'd love to have you, Slayer," he answered quietly, not-so-hidden meaning behind the sentence. 

Buffy felt a tingle run through her as she caught his message. "I thought maybe we could get to know each other better." 

"How much better?" Spike asked, looking back at her with a smirk. 

"I'm hoping for much much better," she said. 

"Slayer, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were flirting with me." 

"Maybe I am," Buffy said coyly, a small smile on her face. 

 

*****

 

After getting over his astonishment at her words, Spike and Buffy proceeded to have an enjoyable day together. They went to the movies, played cards, tried to make dinner and failed miserably, and generally had an all around good time. 

They were currently sitting in front of the television watching Politically Incorrect and throwing popcorn at the screen each time Linda Tripp appeared. At the commercial break, Spike stood and took the now empty bowl to the kitchen to make more popcorn. "So, how's the hedgehog?" he asked when he'd seen she'd followed. 

"I don't have..." Buffy trailed off with a glare. "His name is Angel." 

"Yeah, yeah," he said with a wave of his hand. 

Buffy continued to glare at him as she answered, "Angel is fine." 

"I take it all's well in Lover's Lane then?" 

"We're not...together like that anymore," Buffy told him. She frowned. "Deja vu." 

"Does this mean I have to give the whole bloody ‘you'll never be friends' speech again?" Spike asked. 

"Spike, I will always love Angel, just like you will always love Drusilla," she said, popping a chocolate covered grape from the bowl still on the table into her mouth. "But sometimes that's not enough and you have to move on." 

Spike turned and looked at her in surprise. "That's what your mum told me." 

"I'm saying momisms?" Buffy asked with a look of horror. She sat down heavily at the kitchen table. "I'm not ready for momisms." 

"Don't worry, pet. It'll be awhile until you need them." 

"Right. Awhile. Not anytime soon because I'm not pregnant," she said, purposely avoiding the perfect opening to tell him. He was the last one who didn't know of her condition. However, only her mom, Willow and Oz knew he was the father and she'd sworn them all to secrecy. 

"I think the show's on," he told her, dumping the fresh popcorn in the bowl. 

Buffy jumped up and grabbed two fresh sodas from the fridge, then rejoined him on the couch. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get comfortable again. After ten minutes, she got up. "I'm going to patrol." 

Spike looked up at her in shock. "What? Why?" 

"Vampires are not exclusive to Sunnydale," she answered. 

"I'll go with you," he said, standing. 

"No, you stay," she replied quickly. 

"But... 

"Spike, I am the Slayer, you are human, hence I beat them and you get beaten." 

"Fine," Spike said, glaring at her. "But you shouldn't go out there in that condition." 

"Jeez, first Angel, then Giles, then mom and Willow, and now you!" Buffy exclaimed. "Just because I'm pre-" She stopped suddenly and looked at him with wide eyes. "You know?" 

"That you're underdressed to fight?" Spike asked, confused by her outburst. 

Buffy looked down at the shorts and t-shirt she was wearing, then wiggled her bare feet on the carpet. "Oh. Um, yeah. I guess it would be good if I change." She gave him a pained, embarrassed smile, then quickly disappeared up the stairs.

Frowning, he followed her after a minute. "Slayer?" He found her sitting on the small fold-out couch in the sitting room, face in her hands. He walked over and crouched in front of her. "Pet, what's wrong?" 

She removed her hands to see Spike looked worriedly at her, his blue eyes filled with questions. "I'm sorry. I'm just..." She yawned, breaking the sentence. 

"I have a better idea than patrol, ducks," Spike said, taking her hands in his. "Why don't we call it a night. You can take my bed and I'll stay out here on the sleeper." 

"No, I'll stay out here," Buffy said. "I'm the guest." 

"And as the guest, I say you take the bed," he replied. 

"What if I don't want to? Are you going to make me?" 

"Yes," he said. "I will." 

Buffy arched her brow in challenge. "And how do you think you're going to do that?" 

"Like this," Spike answered, dropping her hands and grabbing her knees. 

Buffy squealed out in laughter as he tickled her. She scooted back on the couch away from his hands, but he followed. Kneeling next to her, he grabbed her at the waist, his fingers torturing her hips and ribs. 

"No, no, no, stop, stop, stop," she gasped out between laughs, trying to capture his wrists. He evaded her hands, continuously tickling her. Finally, she decided to cheat and rolled off the couch, knocking him backwards onto the floor. 

She scrambled to her feet and ran, her footsteps loud and heavy on the stairs. Spike gave chase and they ran around the great room like children. 

"Give it up, Slayer," Spike taunted from the opposite side of the downstairs couch. 

"It didn't work when you were a bloodsucker and it ain't gonna work now," Buffy shot back, weaving on her feet. He gave her a mocking grin, then faked left before launching himself up the middle, right over the back of the couch. 

Surprised, Buffy was tackled to the ground. They both hit with a thud, Spike half on top of her, one arm pinned under her waist. He grinned wickedly at her, his face scant inches away from her own. "Got you." 

"I can see that," she breathed, looking into his so blue eyes. "Now what are you going to do with me?"

Spike's grin faded as the chemistry between the two former enemies rose. "I'm going to kiss you," he whispered in reply. 

"You are?" Buffy asked in a small, trembling voice. 

"Dead cert," he answered, lowering his lips to hers. 

The kiss was so gentle, it was as if a breeze brushed over her lips. Her eyes shot open when she felt him pull back and saw a ghostly smile playing on his face as he studied her under his lashes. Whatever he was searching for he must have found because he lowered his head again, capturing her lips. 

This kiss was coaxing, asking her mouth to merge with his. Both their breathing sped up as their tongues tentatively met, then slowly began to dance. 

Spike's heart was pounding in his chest, the arm he was leaning on was trembling slightly and his brain had shut down completely. All he could focus on was Buffy's soft lips against his, the erotic brush of her tongue. He'd wanted to do this for what seemed like forever. 

Eventually they had to break apart. Luminous hazel eyes stared at bright blue ones, their heavy breathing and pounding hearts the only sound in the rom 

With a new found awareness, Spike got up and helped Buffy to her feet. He gave her a shy smile, then bent his head and pressed a quick, soft kiss on her lips. Without a word, he put his arm around her waist and led her up the stairs to his bedroom. 

Buffy's knees trembled as she stood next to him in the lamp lit room while he turned down the covers. Suddenly, he picked her up in his arms and set her in the bed, smiling mischievously at her, his eyes alight with humor. Brushing a soft kiss across her cheek, he whispered in her ear, "You got the bed." 

She started to giggled as he straightened, pulling the covers up over her body. He ran his finger along her jaw line, then tapped it once against her lips. "Goodnight, Slayer." 

With a wink, he switched off the lamp and left the bedroom. 

 

 

Part Seventeen

 

 

Buffy heard singing, sort of, as she pad towards the kitchen the next morning. She covered her mouth to hold back her laughter as she watched Spike nod his head in time with the music coming over his walkman as he stood in front of the stove, making breakfast. 

"Head like a hole, black as your soul. I'd rather die, than give you control," he sang, stirring the eggs in the pan. "Bow down before the one you serve. You're going to get what you deserve. Bow down before the one you serve." He picked up a second fork and began to tap out a beat on the edge of the metal pan. "You're going to get." He tossed the fork in the air, spinning to catch it. "What you de-" 

Spike saw Buffy standing there, watching him. The fork clattered to the ground. Quickly pressing stop on the walkman, he pushed the headphones off his ears. "How long have you been here?" he asked casually. 

"Long enough," she replied, taking a seat at the kitchen table, huge smile on her face. 

His face was burning as he picked up the fallen fork and tossed it into the sink. Turning back to the pan, he asked over his shoulder, "Hungry?" 

"Starved," Buffy answered. "Then again, lately I'm always starved." 

"Why's that, pet?" Spike asked. 

"I'm...a growing girl," she sort of lied, avoiding telling him yet again. She cursed at herself in her head for being a chicken. 

"Eat up, then," he said, putting a plate in front of her. "Can't have my Slayer starve to death." 

Buffy looked at the food, then stood and retrieved the syrup from the refrigerator that still proclaimed its love for her. She poured a large amount of the sweet, sticky substance over everything on the plate, then took a bite. "Yum. Delish." 

Spike arched a brow at her, but did not comment as he fixed his own plate up before taking a seat across from her. "Did you sleep well, luv?" 

"Like a baby," Buffy answered, then lowered her eyes. *Tell him,* she said to herself. "Um, Spike?" 

"Yes, pet?" 

"Why do you still have all the windows boarded over?" she asked quickly. *Coward.* 

He took another bite of food, chewed and swallowed while he gathered his thoughts. "I think it's because I'm afraid." 

"You?" Buffy said incredulously. 

"Yeah, me," Spike said with the same inflection. "Not everyone can be the fearless Slayer." 

"I'm far from fearless, believe me," she said. "But that still doesn't tell me why." 

"Maybe I don't want to wake up one day a bloody pile of ashes," he replied, stabbing at his eggs.

"That would be an inconvenience," Buffy joked. 

He looked up, saw her grin and rolled his eyes. "You're a laugh a minute, Slayer." 

"I know," she replied. They ate in silence for a few minutes until her plate was nearly empty. "This is really good." 

"Breakfast I can do," Spike told her. "Especially since I normally get up with the birds." 

"Why so early?" Buffy asked. 

"I only slept few hours a night, er...day, most of my unlife," he replied. "It didn't change too much now that I'm human." 

"I take it that's why you're so good at a lot of stuff," she commented. "Knowing you, you must have really been bored." 

"‘Immortality, Captain, consists largely of boredom,'" Spike quoted. At her confused look, he added, "Star Trek." 

"Ah," Buffy nodded, giving him an you're-really-weird-but-I'm-not-going-to-say-it-out-loud look. 

"Yes, I was bored out of my bloody skull most of the time," he answered her question. "I finished the picture, if you want to take a gander." 

Buffy grinned and stood, taking her now empty plate and putting it in the sink. "Is it still on the table?" 

"No, it's in the basement," he replied. 

She nodded and made her way to the basement as he started to put the dishes in the dish washer. The vastness of the finished room was her first impression as she flipped on the light. Nice beige carpeting covered the floor, fake wood paneling covered the walls. A large computer desk with computer was set up along one wall, shelves of more books and a variety of games lined another. 

Walking further into the room, she saw two framed pictures on the wall. "Wow," she said as she saw herself in the finished drawing. The second one was of Drusilla, the vampiress having a faint smile on her lips, her eyes surprising clear and full of devilish mischief. She heard Spike come down the stairs and commented over her shoulder, "These are really good." 

"Thanks, pet," Spike replied, coming to stand behind her. "I did one of Willow and Oz which I sent to Oz the other day."

"For her birthday?" Buffy asked. She caught sight of another picture out of the corner of her eye. 

"Yes," he answered as she walked away from him. 

"Spike," she sighed when she was close enough to the picture on the dartboard. "This isn't very nice." 

"Who said I was nice?" Spike replied. 

She scowled at him, then returned to looking at the picture. "It is a good picture of Angel, though, in a mocking sort of way." 

"Thank you," he said sincerely. He gave her a lopsided grin at her look. "So, pet, what are you up for today? Cards? Going for a walk? Making out?" 

Buffy gave him a slow, seductive smile and walked over to him with a sexy prowl. She put her hands on his t-shirt clad chest. "I think," she said, running her hands up around his neck. "We should." She looked up at him and licked her lips. "Go for a walk." 

Spike groaned as she stepped back from him with an evil grin. "That was cruel, Slayer." 

"But fun," Buffy replied cheerfully. 

His arms snaked out and yanked her to him, pressing her petite form to his lanky one. "This is funner," he whispered before capturing her lips in a searing kiss. 

This kiss was infinitely more powerful than the tentative one they shared the previous night. He demanded rather than asked, claimed rather than coaxed as their mouths and tongues met in a passionate battle. Both their hearts were slamming against their rib cages, excitement coursing through them while they melted against one another, trying to get closer. 

Spike released her slowly, their breaths coming in quick pants, and took a step back. "Now," he croaked, his voice heavy with arousal. He cleared his throat, then continued. "How ‘bout that walk?" 

 

*****

 

It was cool outside for early May, but that did not deter families from venturing forth. The park where they walked to was full of people enjoying the sunny Sunday. Children played catch with their dads, some flew kites, others fed the ducks floating in the small lake in the center of the park. Side by side, the two former enemies made their way down the path around that lake, avoiding rollerbladers and bicyclers until they came to a bridge crossing the water. There, Spike led Buffy down the bank to the water's edge where small fish could be seen swimming in the shallow stream that fed the lake. 

"This is my favorite spot," Spike confided in her as he picked up a handful of rocks and began skimming them across the surface. "Even when I was my old self, I'd come down here and sit under the bridge all day, protected from the sun but still able to enjoy it." 

"Are you sure you're a vampire?" Buffy asked, crouching to run her hand in the water. "Or rather, were." 

"Some little blond girl changed me," he admitted. "I loved violence and death, being in control. My days were filled with things to entertain myself, but my nights were for the hunt, for blood. Then I go to Sunnyhell with my Princess and my perfect unlife started to fall apart." 

"How? You seemed pretty confident and in control to me," she said, picking up a shiny rock from beneath the surface. 

"First of all, no matter what I did, you and your mates blocked me at every turn," he said, tossing a rock at a school of fish. "Then you go and drop a bloody organ on me." 

"Mess with my boyfriend, you pay the price," Buffy said with a grin. 

"But then your bloody boyfriend came back to our side and made a mess of my life," Spike replied. "He took over my home, took my woman and was a bloody fucking nuisance all around. Add to that the fact that I was stuck in a bloody wheelchair because of you." 

"Sorry," she apologized, giving him a sheepish grin. 

"Don't be, pet," he told her. "If it was the three of us, you'd be six feet under no matter that you're the best Slayer I've ever seen." 

"Overconfident much?" 

"Only telling the truth, Slayer," Spike replied. "I would have killed you just to shut the wanker up, but I couldn't and I ended up admiring you even more than I already did." 

"You admired me?" Buffy asked, surprised. 

"Of course," he answered without hesitation. "You're a beautiful, strong, witty girl who didn't give into Angelus' games. Then I made the deal with you to get Dru back and we left, but I couldn't stop thinking about you, wondering if you were alright. That was one of the reasons I went back to that bloody hell hole." 

Buffy looked up at him. The sun was casting strong shadows on his face, making his already chiseled features more defined. His brow was knitted slightly as if in disgust or anger with himself. 

"Then I found out that stupid wanker was all soul-having again and I got jealous," Spike continued. "Jealousy on me does not equate with logic, hence the spell to make Drusilla love me again." 

"But the spell was never completed," Buffy said. "And you said you were going to go back and torture her into loving you again." 

"Never made it," he shrugged. "Ended up here in LA, trying to forget the way you pressed up against me in your kitchen, or the way you fought by my side, or the way you told me to duck." He skimmed another rock across the surface. "Good thing I was already dead or I would have bloody well drank myself to death. I started coming out here after I got the house to be part of your world even if only a little. Then one day I woke up human and the rest you know." 

Buffy stood and went over to him. "Well, I'm glad you changed or I would never had gotten the chance to know how great you really are," she said, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck and pulling his head down for a kiss. 

Spike blinked in surprise, then dropped the rocks still in his hand and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close as his eyes closed. The kiss was tender and sweet and they stood exploring and tasting one another until a few kids from the bridge above started dropping rocks into the water near them. 

Breaking apart was difficult for both. Spike brought his hand around and put it under her chin, lightly caressing her lower lip with his thumb. "Have I told you how wonderful you are?" 

"Once," she replied. "But you were slightly delirious and naked at the time." The look on his face made her giggle. "Don't worry, I didn't look...much." 

Spike started to blush, releasing her. "Did I do anything else that I don't bloody remember so I can be embarrassed all at one time?" He watched as a deep blush stole over her face, deeper then his and he sighed. "What did I do?" 

"You remember I told you that you talk in your sleep?" Buffy asked, her eyes studiously avoiding his as she geared herself up to tell him. "Well, let's just say that's not all you do in your sleep." 

He frowned, not understanding. "I didn't wet the bed, did I?" 

"No," she replied immediately. "Nothing like that." 

"Good," he said. After she didn't go on, he asked, "Then what did I bloody do?" 

"You, um..." Buffy paused and took a deep breath, then quickly finished, running her words together. "Madelovetome." 

"Do what?" Spike stepped forward and captured her chin, making her look up at him. "Repeat that."

Buffy was blushing so red, she must have matched Willow's hair. "You made love to me," she replied in a small voice. 

Shock could not adequately describe the look on Spike's face. He let go of her and took a step back, almost falling over the loose rocks. He could not believe what she just told him. How could he not remember making love to her? It was his every fantasy to do that, and he slept through it. "Bloody fucking hell," he cursed, staring at her. 

Buffy's face fell into sadness at his reaction. "I'm sorry. It happened so quickly that I didn't stop you. I understand why you wouldn't want to..." She was interrupted by him grabbing and silencing her with a hard kiss. 

"Slayer, do not ever think that I would not bloody want to," Spike told her. "I want to make love to you so badly it hurts, and not just here." He put her hand on the bulge in his jeans that had hardened when he thought of making love to her. "I love you so bloody fucking much and hate that the first time I was able to touch your heavenly body I was fucking asleep!" 

She stared at him, her eyes huge as she felt the evidence of his arousal and heard his words. She knew that he loved her, he'd told her often enough even though he'd been mostly out of it. But she thought that he would have been ecstatic, not angry. If this was his reaction to him making love to her, she could imagine what it would be if she told him she was pregnant. "I'm sorry," she whispered. 

"Don't be sorry, pet," he said, stifling his anger at himself. "I should be bloody apologizing. It couldn't have been all that good to have my affections thrust onto you." 

"Nice choice of words," she couldn't help saying. She began to giggle, which turned into a full fledged laugh as the conversation played back in her mind. 

Spike stared at her as if she'd grown a second head. "What's so funny, Slayer?" 

"You, me, this," Buffy laughed. 

"It's not funny," he growled, stalking away from her back up the side of the bank. "I wanted candles and soft sheets and music and to be bloody conscious!" 

Buffy watched as he stomped off, her laughter dying immediately. Tears sprung in her eyes as he disappeared from sight, the fact that she didn't tell him about the baby weighing heavily on her. Wiping her eyes, she climbed up the bank and headed back towards the house alone. 

 

*****

Part Eighteen

 

Buffy entered the house and winced at the hard music coming from Spike pounding on the piano. She recognized the song as ‘Halloween' by Ives, a very freaky off-key song that gave her the wiggins when she'd first heard it. Walking over to him, she slid onto the edge of the piano bench next to him, her back to the keys as the chords rung out into the room. His face was a smooth mask, the only way she could tell he was still angry was by the clenching of his jaw and slight pursing of his lips. 

He finished the song with a resounding crash, then immediately cut it off. The silence was deafening after that, making Buffy shift uncomfortably next to him. "I'm sorry," she finally said, breaking the oppressive quiet. 

"No," Spike said sharply, his hands clenched into fists on his knees. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm the one who's sorry, pet. It couldn't have been all that good for you..." 

"Actually, I enjoyed it," Buffy interrupted, blushing. "A lot." 

He looked at her in surprise. "You've got to be joking." 

"Um, no," she replied, studiously avoiding his gaze. "I-I've also been wanting try it again." 

Spike blinked in shock, then he closed his eyes to reel in his raging hormones caused by her quiet words. He licked his lips, then pressed them together, hands now gripping his knees. 

"Spike?" 

The tentative sound of his name made him open his eyes and see her beautiful face marred with a frown. Raising a hand, he ran the pad of his thumb over the frown lines on her forehead, smoothing them. Then he traced down the side of her cheek and over her lips before dropping his hand. "I'm so sorry I got upset, luv." 

Buffy shrugged. "No big." She leaned forward suddenly and kissed him briefly on the lips. "All's forgiven." 

"Cor, you are so bloody fucking wonderful," Spike said, bringing his hand up to brush her hair away from her face. "I want to make love to you, Slayer. The way I should have done in the first place." 

"Then why don't you?" Buffy replied, looking into his eyes. 

He inhaled sharply, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. With a small groan, he wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pulled her into a kiss. He felt her try and get closer and he bodily hauled her onto his lap, no small feat for the way they were sitting. The kiss grew from tender to passionate, not stopping until they absolutely had to in order to catch their breaths. 

Spike leaned his forehead against hers as he forced himself to calm down. Buffy went to kiss him again, but he stopped her. "No," he said, backing his head away. 

Buffy gave him a look of utter confusion. "What?" 

"We're not going to do this now," Spike told her, his hands loosening their tight grip on her waist. 

"But I thought..." Buffy trailed off, her hormones both from arousal and her pregnancy out of control. She finished her sentence with a meek, "You don't want me?" 

Spike ground his pelvis up against her bottom. "Does this feel like I don't bloody want you?" 

"Then why..." 

"Slayer," he said, putting a finger over her lips to silence her. "When we do this, we're going to do it right, not twenty minutes after I find out I shagged you and didn't even know about it. That just makes it seem like I'm trying to make up for it." 

"But I want you," she pouted, nipping at his finger. 

"And you'll get me, pet," Spike replied with a small smile. "But not today. Besides, your mum will be here in a few hours and what I want to do to you will take a bloody hell of a lot longer than that." 

Buffy blushed rosily. "So, what do we do until then?" 

"I didn't say we couldn't make out," he answered slyly, then pulled her in for another kiss. 

 

*****

 

"Spike?" Buffy said from her perch on top of the piano. She was laying on her stomach, turning the pages when he nodded as he played. 

"Yes, pet?" Spike asked, fingers dancing lightly over the keys. 

"Do you want to go to the prom with me?" 

"Do what?" 

"Prom. You. Me. Tuxedo. Dress. Limo. Dancing," she said each word slowly, mockingly. 

Spike rolled his eyes, then replied, "Are you sure you want to take me and not pumpkin?"

"Yes, I'm sure I want to take you and not Angel," Buffy answered, turning the page. "I asked you, didn't I? Besides, Angel and I aren't together anymore in the together sense. Did that make sense?"

"It didn't make dollars," he said, giving her a smirk. She groaned and thumped her head on her arm. "I'd love to go with you, ducks." 

"Really?" Buffy asked, raising her head to see if he was serious. 

"Yes, really," Spike replied, not breaking the song he was playing. He tilted his head and gave her a quizzical look. "Do you know how to dance?" 

"What kind of question is that?" 

"I take that as a no," he responded. 

"Spike, I know how to dance," she said. "I dance at the Bronze all the time." 

"That's not dancing, that's flopping around like a corpse hanging in the breeze." 

"Um, major eew," Buffy said, giving him a disgusted look. 

"When's this prom?" 

"May 22," she answered. 

"Bloody hell, that's not enough time to instruct you properly," he said to himself, then shrugged. "Oh well." 

"Spike, you do realize that you're talking to yourself," she pointed out. 

"That comes from hanging around you too long, Slayer," Spike replied. 

"Hey!" Buffy said, shutting the songbook on him. The doorbell rang, cutting off any form of retaliation by the former vampire. Instead of moving, he started to play another song from memory as the Slayer slid off the piano to answer the door. "Hi, mom!" 

"Hi, sweety," Joyce greeted, entering the house. "Hello, Spike." 

"Joyce," Spike greeted. "Come to take away this pain in the arse?" 

Buffy scowled at him as Joyce laughed. "Do you want her instead? I could happily leave her here," Joyce joked. 

Spike met Buffy's eyes, a different type of smile on his face. "I'd love to have her." 

"Guys," Buffy whined, blushing under his gaze. She picked up her overnight bag and thrust it at her mom. "I'll meet you in the car." 

Joyce smiled knowingly at her daughter. "Ok, I can tell when I'm not wanted," she said. "I'll talk to you soon, Spike." 

"I have no doubt," Spike replied. As soon as Joyce left, Buffy walked over to him and smacked him upside the head. "Hey, what the bloody hell was that for?" 

"Because I felt like it," Buffy said, pushing past his arm so she could stand between him and the piano. "Now, are you gonna kiss me or what?" 

"Pushy, pushy, Slayer," he said, standing. There was barely enough room for the two of them in the small space and Buffy was forced to lean back against the piano, her backside hitting the keys. They plinked off-key, but neither of them cared as he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her breathless. 

The car horn sounded from outside, making the couple reluctantly break apart. "I'll, uh, call you," Buffy said as they forced themselves to move to the door. 

"You do that, luv," Spike replied, placing another quick kiss on her lips. "Be careful." 

"I will," she said. "Don't want to go to the prom all black and blue." 

"No, we wouldn't want that," he responded, opening the door. 

"Well, bye," Buffy said, giving him an awkward smile. She turned and quickly left. 

"Bye," Spike said quietly as he watched her head for the car. He waited until they drove off before closing the door, then leaning back against it. "Bloody fucking hell, that girl is going to kill me yet." 

Running his hand through his short hair, he wandered into the kitchen and picked up the phone. "She asked me to the prom," he said into the phone without greeting when Oz picked up the other line. 

"And?" Oz replied. 

"The last prom I saw was in the picture Carrie and, though it would be fun, I don't think it'll be that bloody," he answered. 

"Ah," Oz said. "Next weekend we'll get you set up." 

"Thanks, mate," Spike told him. He heard Willow in the background ask the werewolf something. 

"Buffy didn't tell you anything, did she?" Oz asked for the red head. 

"She told me we had sex," he replied. "I can't believe I don't bloody remember." 

"Nothing else?" 

"No," he said, going over to the fridge to take out a soda. His hand froze on the handle when he saw a new, very naughty message put together under the original. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered where she'd gotten the extra letters and why she knew that song, while the rest of him became rock hard. He cleared his throat. "I have to go." 

"Ok. Later," Oz replied. 

"Yeah," Spike said, quickly hanging up the phone and heading for the stairs. He was either going to take one very cold shower or have one very intimate conversation with his hand as he saw the words again in his mind. 

When I think about you I touch myself. 

 

 

Part Nineteen

 

 

Spike pulled at the collar of his starched white shirt, wanting to rip the bow tie off and shove it down someone's throat. Willow and Oz were waiting in the limo along with Xander and his date...Cordelia, believe it or not...while the former vampire stood in the Summers' foyer waiting for Buffy. 

The three weeks had passed by rapidly, with Buffy and Spike spending hours on the phone together. Oz had gone down to LA to assist the peroxide blond in getting a tux, corsage and arranging for a second limo to take the former enemies back to Spike's house after the prom. He'd arranged with Joyce for Buffy to spend the weekend again, including Senior Skip day the following Monday, which to his surprise, she readily agreed. This weekend was to be the weekend and everything was going to be perfect. *Unless she never comes down the bloody stairs,* he thought, switching the white corsage to the other hand. 

"She'll be down in a minute," Joyce said, coming down the stairs with the overnight bag. "I'll leave this by the door for you to pick up later." 

"Thanks, Joyce," Spike replied. "For everything." 

"You're welcome, Spike," Joyce said with a smile. She hid the bag in the living room and picked up the camera off the coffee table. "Don't worry. I promised I'd only take a couple." 

"Hi," came a soft greeting from the stairs. Spike turned from Joyce and he felt his collar tighten again at the vision before him. Swallowing heavily, he let his eyes travel from her upswept hair, over the scoop-necked, pale yellow dress, which was cinched around her just below her breasts, leaving the rest loose and airy as it fell just below her knees. Her feet were encased in matching, strapped, heeled sandals. Around her neck was a simple, gold cross similar to the one she'd given him and she was carrying a small clutch. 

"You look..." Spike was at a loss for words, his heart pounding in his chest. "Bloody fucking hell," he swore quietly as she finished descending the stairs. She walked right up before him and smiled, making him swallow nervously again. 

"You look good, too," Buffy said. She saw the camera flash and turned to give her mother a look. "Mom." 

"Just a couple," Joyce said, holding up the camera. 

Buffy looked back up at Spike and rolled her eyes. "Humor her," she told him, hooking her arm through his and turning them both to her mom. Joyce snapped a few more pictures before Buffy called a halt. "That's enough, mom." 

Spike was still stunned in silence as Buffy came back into his line of vision. She was grinning up at him and he couldn't breathe. "Is that for me?" she asked, pointing to the corsage. 

"What?" Spike said, coming out of his stupor. "Oh. For you. Yes." 

"And to think, you just learned your three letter words today," Buffy joked. 

He scowled at her, fully snapping back to reality. "Very funny, Slayer." 

"I know," she replied as he opened the box and took the white orchid out. She held out her hand and he slid it over her wrist to the snap of another picture. "Mo-om." 

"Sorry, honey," Joyce said, clearly not. 

"We'd better go before I go blind from the flash," Buffy said, opening the front door. "I'll see you in the morning mom." 

Joyce winked at Spike. "Have fun." 

"Goodnight, Joyce," Spike replied, closing the door behind him. He held out his arm to Buffy. "Shall we, milady?" 

Buffy giggled. "Let's roll." 

"Wow, Buffster, looking good," Xander commented as they joined the group in the limo.

"You can't even tell that you've gained weight," Cordelia added. Xander pinched her arm. "Ow! What was that for?" 

He leaned over to whisper in her ear as Oz spoke up, "You do look good, Buffy." 

"Thanks, Oz," Buffy said. "It was a pain trying to find a dress." 

"But we did," Willow piped in. "And only after twenty-two stores." 

Spike looked over at Buffy, wondering about the brunette's comment. She looked the same to him, but he'd never seen her in a dress before. She'd been wearing long, loose T-shirts when she was over three weeks ago. He tugged at the collar again and she swatted his hand away, re- straightening the tie. "So, guys, what is everyone doing tomorrow?" 

"Oz and I are going to the Wharf," Willow replied, taking her boyfriends hand. "I've never been there before." 

"It's a nice place, Willow," Spike told her, then frowned. "Although I haven't been there in twenty years." 

"That's right, you're old," Cordelia said, looking at Spike. "Wait, how old are you? Angel old?" 

"Cordy, he can't be that old, seeing as how Deadboy was the one who made him," Xander said. He turned to Buffy. "Speaking of dead things, where is my least favorite person tonight? Usually he's hanging around you like a dog on a bone." 

"Angel's patrolling tonight, since Faith is going to the prom, too," Buffy answered, ignoring Spike's sullen look at the mention of his sire. "And he does not hang around me that much." 

"Actually, Buffy, he does," Oz said. 

"Guys-" 

"He doesn't hang around her other than to keep her safe," Willow commented. "It's not like Faith is going to help now that she is pre-" 

"Willow!" Buffy interrupted loudly with a glare to her friend. Embarrassed silence filled the limo and Spike wondered what was going on between the friends. 

"So, Spike. How old did you say you were?" Cordelia asked, breaking the silence. "And don't you feel kinda weird going to a high school prom?" 

 

*****

 

The Senior Prom was held in the high school gym, which the cheerleader said was tacky but it was better than the Bronze. Decorations and tables were set up around the large room, almost hiding the fact that it was the gym. A DJ blasted music over several speakers as the group entered. Cordelia immediately pulled Xander to the photographer set up in one corner, wanting to get the picture taken before the night ruined her makeup or hairstyle. 

"I can't believe those two are kinda back together again," Buffy commented as they went off. 

"Hellmouth," Oz summed it up in one word. 

"Hey, B, red, wolf-boy," Faith greeted as she came up to them, punch in hand. She looked Spike over from head to toe in a predatory fashion. "Who's the hottie?" 

Buffy moved closer to Spike protectively, staking her claim. "This is Spike, my date." 

"Got ya," Faith said. "I'm Faith." 

"The other Slayer," Spike said, placing her. 

"The same," Faith replied. 

"Now that introductions are over," Buffy said, latching onto Spike's arm. "We're going to dance." 

"Laters," Faith said as Buffy dragged Spike away. 

"I take it you want to dance," Spike chuckled as they joined the throng of students on the floor. 

"I didn't like the way she was looking at you," Buffy growled. 

"Jealous, pet?" 

"No. I don't want you to get rabies," she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck despite that it was a fast song. They danced together for several songs before the Slayer called a break, having to go to the ladies room, which was one of the downfalls of being pregnant - frequent potty breaks. 

"Having fun?" Willow asked as she and Oz joined Spike at the table while he waited for Buffy. 

"Yes," Spike replied. "Although if any other bloke looks at the Slayer, it might get a bit bloody in here." 

"She is sort of glowy tonight," Oz commented thoughtfully. 

"Aren't moms-to-be normally glowy?" Willow asked her boyfriend. Her eyes widened when she realized what she said and quickly looked at Spike. To her relief, he wasn't paying attention because Buffy was walking to the table. "That was close," she whispered to Oz. 

"Slightly," Oz agreed. 

Buffy sat down at the table with a sigh. "Dancing sure makes a Slayer hungry." 

"Want me to get you something, pet?" Spike asked, leaning towards her, resting his forearms on his knees. 

"Nah, I can wait a little longer," she told him. She looked up in time to see Giles heading for them and groaned. "No saving the world tonight, dad. I've been a good girl." 

"Wh-what?" Giles said in confusion as he came up to the table. 

"Never mind," Buffy said. "What's up doc?" 

"I only came to wish you a pleasant weekend," Giles told her, then looked sheepishly at Willow. "And to ask if you could unfreeze that infernal machine for me." 

Willow smiled. "Of course," she said, standing as did Oz. "See ya later, Buffy." 

The three left and Buffy sighed in relief. "Good. I don't want to be the Slayer this weekend. I want to be Buffy, normal girl." 

"You could never be normal, luv," Spike commented with a grin. He stood and held out his hand. "Dance?" 

The hours passed rapidly and before they knew it, students and their dates were slowly heading out to after prom parties or other activities. Spike held Buffy close as they danced to the music, oblivious to those around them. 

That's all I wanted  
Something special, something sacred  
In your eyes.  
For just one moment  
To be bold and naked  
At your side. 

Sometimes I think that you'll never  
Understand me.  
Maybe this time is forever  
Say it can be. 

That's all you wanted  
Something special, someone sacred  
In your life.  
Just for one moment  
To be warm and naked   
At my side. 

Sometimes I think that you'll never  
Understand me.  
But something tells me together  
We'd be happy. 

I will be your father figure  
Put your tiny hand in mine  
I will be your preacher teacher  
Anything you have in mind.  
I will be your father figure  
I have had enough of crime  
I will be the one who loves you  
Until the end of time. 

"Ready to go, pet?" Spike asked quietly. 

"Where?" Buffy asked in reply. 

"It's a surprise," he answered with a small smile. She nodded and he led her outside after a quick goodbye to the others to the waiting limo. She looked at him with an arched eyebrow, but got in as he held the door for her. They pulled up in front of her house and he told her to wait as he climbed out. He returned almost immediately, handing the driver the overnight bag before getting back into the limo. 

"Where are we going?" Buffy asked again as they pulled away from her house. 

"I'm squirreling you away until Monday night," Spike replied. "To have my wicked way with you." Her eyes widened as her heart caught in her throat at his devilish grin. He pulled her into the closer to him, his arm around her waist. "It's a two hour drive, luv. Rest while you can." 

"Oh," she said breathlessly. 

 

 

Part Twenty

 

 

Spike left Buffy to use the powder room as he brought her bag to the master bedroom. Once there, he quickly lit the candles scattered around the room and hit play/repeat on the CD player. Shedding his jacket, vest and tie, he unbuttoned the top button of the dress shirt and cuffs as he glanced around the room to be sure that everything was perfect. 

He heard a gasp from the doorway and turned to see Buffy standing there, the candlelight casting a soft glow over her. Silently, he walked over to her and held out his hand. When she put her smaller one in his, he raised it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles before turning it over and placing a kiss on her palm. 

Buffy's heart skipped a beat when he did this and she unconsciously licked her lips. He led her further into the room after closing the door and pulled her into his arms in a classic dance position. Moving slowly, their eyes met and held as they swayed to the soft music. Neither one knew who initiated the kiss, but neither cared as their lips gently brushed against one another's. 

Passion rose between them at a slow burn, starting from their feet and leading up to their mouths, engulfing them. Buffy began to unbutton Spike's shirt as his fingers ran up and down her back, sending shivers of longing down her spine. She pushed the shirt off his shoulders and he dropped his arms to let it fall to the floor. Frustrated at the white t-shirt she found instead of skin, she plucked at it, pulling it from the dress pants. 

Spike broke the kiss only long enough for him to pull it over his head, then he pulled her closer to him, his lips capturing hers once more. He inhaled her sweet scent, his entire body burning with desire. Lightly, he ran his hands over her bare shoulders and arms before running them back up to cup her head in order to deepen the kiss. He felt her hands caressing his bare back and a tremor ran through him. 

With a small moan, he once again broke the kiss and took a step back. He dropped to his knees before she could protest and began to unstrap her heeled sandals. His hand ran up the back of her calf as he lifted her foot to remove the shoe, making her tremble. He repeated the action with the other foot, then trailed both hands up the sides of her legs as he stood again. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her again as he toed off his own shoes, his mouth melding with hers. 

Buffy felt the bow being untied by his deft hands as she ran her fingers around the waistband of the tuxedo pants. His muscles rolled under her as she touched his stomach, arousing her more. The zipper of her dress descended and he pushed the straps off her shoulders. Dropping her hands, she let it fall off of her, pooling at her feet. She stood before him, clad in only a satin bra and panties, gold cross necklace around her throat, her abdomen slightly swollen and hard in her fourth month. 

Spike stopped the kiss again in order to see her. His eyes traveled slowly from head to toe, worshipful and loving, not noting the extension of her stomach, only the beauty of her. Buffy flushed under his perusal, reaching forward to the button and zipper on his pants. He brushed her hands away and instead picked her up, carrying her to the turned down bed and setting her gently upon it. Then he unhooked the front clasp of her bra, freeing her. He inhaled sharply at her beauty as he dropped the scrap of satin to the floor. 

He quickly shed his pants and socks, joining her on the bed. He kissed her passionately on the lips, then began kiss and lick a fiery trail along her jaw line, down her throat to one of her breasts. Gently lifting the soft globe, he lavished her pebble like nipple with his teeth and tongue. Buffy ran her hands through his hair, holding him to her as he moved his ministrations to her other breast. Tendrils of electricity were shooting from her nipples to her sex as he worked his magic on them. 

Suddenly, she pulled him up to claim his mouth, her hands scratching lightly down his back. She managed to get him onto his back, then proceeded to kiss and lick her way down his chest as he did her. The muscles in his stomach rolled again when she dipped her tongue into his navel, his hips rising on their own accord. With a feminine smile, she rubbed her cheek against the erection straining under his briefs and was promptly hauled up his body on the receiving end of a searing kiss. 

Spike had her on her back again, kissing his way down her body. His fingers wrapped around the edges of her panties and pulled them off of her. He settled himself between her legs, licking and nipping at her inner thighs before inhaling her heady scent. His tongue flicked out against her clit after he had separated her silken folds, exposing her to him. Buffy hissed in pleasure, arching up against him as her hands wove into his short blond hair. 

He brought her to a quick orgasm, sending her writhing against his face. She cried out in pleasure as he drew her climax out until she lay limp beneath him. He removed his briefs as he kissed her inner thigh, then up her hip and over her hard abdomen. He paused, frowning slightly because something seemed wrong, but he dismissed it as he dipped his tongue into her navel, continuing his way up her body. 

Buffy caught his wandering mouth with hers, tasting herself on him, feeling his hardness against her thigh. She arched her hips, silently begging for him to fill her. He put his hand between them, positioning himself at her wet opening, the tip pushed slightly inside. He broke the kiss to look down into her eyes, his love for her shining out of his bright blue ones. He then used his hand to grasp hers, intertwining their fingers before he thrust into her. 

She thrust up against him in response, wrapping her legs over Spike's hips. Their lips crushed together again as he moved in and out of her in the rhythm of the ages. Slowly the fires that had always burned between them grew to an inferno level, causing them to fly into orgasm, crying out each other's names. 

Hands still entwined, Spike rested his forehead against hers, both of them panting heavily. Sweat glistened on their bodies, casting them both in a slight glow from the candlelight. Their hearts pounded a staccato beat in time with each other as they came down. He finally moved out of her, turning them so Buffy was cradled against his chest, not letting go of her hand. 

They lay together silently, the soft strains of music the only sound in the room. 

 

 

Part Twenty-one

 

 

Buffy traced patterns absently on Spike's bare chest after he had let go of her hand. "Spike?" 

"Yes, luv?" 

"Did you..." She trailed off, gathering her courage. "Did you notice anything different? About me, that is." 

Spike frowned. "What do you mean?" 

Buffy rolled onto her back, head on the other pillow, to stare at the ceiling. Spike followed her, turning onto his side and propping his head in his hand. His eyes traveled slowly over her nude form bathed in the candlelight and felt himself becoming aroused again. Then that feeling that something was off hit him and the comment Cordelia made in the limo came back to him. Reaching forward, he ran his hand from just under her breasts down to her sex, watching carefully. His hand rose slightly, then dipped over her abdomen. 

Buffy turned her head to see his face as he did this, scared about his reaction. She should have told him when she was here three weeks ago, or even earlier, but she had been too much of a coward. Her mother had chastised her on the drive home and in the following weeks, as did Willow. Even Oz had spoken up, telling her Spike should know. 

She watched as his brow furrowed while he ran his hand over her abdomen again. He pressed on her slightly, the frown deepening as he felt the hardness of that area. Taking a deep breath, she geared herself up to tell him. But before she could, he moved and began to rain light kisses on her. "Spike-" 

"Hmm?" 

"What...what are you doing?" 

"Kissing you," he answered with a small chuckle, not stopping. 

"But-" 

"You're beautiful," Spike whispered, moving his body over hers as he kissed up the valley between her breasts. "So bloody beautiful." 

"Spike-" She was cut off again by his mouth claiming hers, his fingers dipping between their bodies, making her juices flow. She arched up into him, her hands sliding around his back as he sought entrance. He surged into her, making her mewl in pleasure as their pelvises hit. The rhythm varied from slow and languorous to quick and hard as they climbed to the peak again. They climaxed almost simultaneously, then collapsed together as their hearts raced. 

Spike nuzzled her neck in long time habit, resting his weight on his forearms. "You were saying?" he asked in her ear, making her shiver. 

"I was talking?" Buffy replied, running her hands up and down his back. He chuckled sending chills down her spine. Slowly, he pulled out of her, raising his head to kiss her thoroughly before moving off of her, returning to his side with his head propped in his hand. She didn't want to move, ever, but mother nature didn't agree. With a moan of protest, she sat up and slid off the bed. "Be back." 

Spike watched her bare ass as she toddled to the bathroom, faint smile on his lips. Rolling onto his back, he stared up at the ceiling, his body a mixture of giddiness and tiredness. For the first time in over a year he was truly happy. He had the woman that he loved in his bed where she belonged and it looked as though she was in no hurry to leave. He was even content to be human. 

"Spike?" 

He turned his head to gaze at the beauty standing in the bathroom doorway. She had completely released her hair and it hung loose, framing her face. He noticed that she was nervous, one hand holding the doorframe, the other curved around her stomach as she chewed on her lower lip. He propped back up onto his side, patting the bed next to him. "What's wrong, luv?" 

Buffy didn't move. The sight of her flushed skin and rounded belly in the mirror had been a shock and she knew there was no more waiting. However, if she went over to him, she'd never tell him. "I'm pregnant," she blurted out, gripping the doorframe so tightly in cracked in punctuation. 

Spike stared at her, frozen, as her statement sunk into his brain. His eyes darted to the swell of her abdomen that her other hand was curled around. His heart felt like it was being ripped in two at the thought that she had been with someone else and was now carrying that man's child. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he finally asked, his voice slightly hoarse. 

She shook her head no, still not moving from the doorway. "Are you mad?" 

"No," he replied immediately. "Never." He rolled off the bed to his feet and went over to her. She looked up at him, wide eyed and he pressed a quick kiss on her lips, then swatted her rear as he went to get past her into the bathroom. 

Buffy yelped and jumped away from the door, earning a small smirk from Spike. He went into the bathroom and closed the door, then leaned back against it, hands clenched at his sides. He looked at himself in the mirror and cursed under his breath. "I'll kill him," he growled, turning on the faucet. 

Buffy went over to the bag sitting on a chair and opened it. She pulled out a t-shirt and slipped it over her head, then put on a clean pair of panties before sighing heavily. Her stomach let her know she was hungry and she silently padded out of the bedroom, heading for the kitchen. 

Spike emerged from the bathroom to find no Buffy and the bedroom door open. He grabbed a pair of jeans out of the dresser and slid them on before going in search of the Slayer. He found her in the kitchen, staring into the pan on the stove as she stirred, empty can of soup on the counter. He went to get a drink out of the fridge when he saw new words made from the letter magnets. 

I'm sorry. 

Stalking over to Buffy, he spun her to face him and kissed her savagely, plunging his tongue into her mouth to claim hers. He held her close, one hand tangled in her hair, the other around her waist. He broke it only when he heard the soup bubbling. Breathing heavily, he turned off the flame then stared down at her. "I love you, dammit, and you have nothing to be sorry about. It's not your bloody fault some pillock knocked you up..." 

Buffy's mouth dropped open as he went on, realization dawning that he didn't know he was the ‘pillock' who got her pregnant. Although his tirade was sweet, albeit a bit bloody in his descriptions, she interrupted him. "Spike, it's your baby." 

"...the wanker not-" Spike stopped suddenly as her words pierced his thoughts. His voice grew faint when he asked, "What?" 

"Um, you're the father," Buffy told him, concentrating on pouring the soup into the bowl. When he didn't say anything, she looked over at him. He was standing there, mouth slightly open in shock, his blue eyes wide. It didn't look like he was breathing, which concerned her. "Are you ok?" 

In response, his eyes rolled up and he fell to the floor in a dead faint. 

 

*****

 

"Spike? Spike, wake up," Buffy said, kneeling on the floor at his side, patting his cheek. 

Spike opened his eyes slowly, focusing on the blond leaning worriedly over him. "You're not bloody joking, are you?" 

"Uh, no," Buffy replied, giving him a strained smile. "You're definitely the dad." 

Spike closed his eyes again, taking a deep, unsteady breath. *Bloody fucking hell,* he thought, but not in anger or despair. It was more disappointment in himself for making her pregnant. He sat up, then smoothly got on his knees, facing her. Then he pulled her against him in a tight hug, his cheek pressed against her hair. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." 

"Sorry? Why?" 

"Why do you bloody think?" he said, releasing her. "For making you pregnant!" 

"You don't want the baby?" she asked in a small voice. 

But he didn't hear her as he went on another tirade. "First I get made human, then I have sex with you and don't even bloody know it, then I make you pregnant! Bloody fucking hell, can't anything go right?!" 

Tears started to fall down Buffy's cheeks at his words. With a choked sob, she stood and ran from the kitchen, startling Spike. He smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand and took off after her, swearing at himself. He snagged her at the top of the stairs, pulling her roughly against him, though she could easily break away if she desired. "Slayer, I'm sorry." 

"No you're not. You hate me and hate that I'm pregnant," Buffy sobbed. 

"No!" Spike said sharply. "Buffy, cor, no. I hate myself. I've been nothing but a bloody pain to you since we met, always trying to destroy you and when I stop, I manage to ruin your life anyway by knocking you up." 

"You didn't ruin my life," she told him. He loosened his hold enough to give her an incredulous look. "You just made it more...interesting." 

"Interesting, right," he scoffed. 

"Look, you bleached moron," Buffy said, getting angry. "I'm the one who didn't stop you back in February, I'm the one who decided to have the baby and I'm the one who always made your life hell. So get off your high moral horse, you pathetic excuse for a former vampire!" 

Spike stared at her flushed, angry face for a moment, then started to laugh. Buffy scowled up at him, making him laugh even harder. She smacked him on the chest, breaking out of his arms only to stand there with hers crossed over her chest, glaring at him. 

"Cor, pet, I love you," he said when he finally calmed somewhat. "You never bloody cease to amaze me." 

"Ok, I'm lost," she said, throwing up her hands. "And you're nuts." 

"Nuts, eh?" Spike said, a sly smile crossing his face. 

Buffy suddenly found herself in his arms, being carried into the bedroom. He practically threw her on the bed, making her shriek. He pounced on her, pinning her arms above her head, grinning down at her. "Spike!" 

"Slayer, shut up," he said, capturing her mouth with his. He kissed her passionately, pouring all his tightly wound emotions into it - from her being here with him by her own free will, to their lovemaking, to the news that she was carrying his child. His child. The one that he'd always dreamed of having with her but never thought would be a possibility. 

Breathless, he broke the kiss to peer down at her, his blue eyes lit with an unearthly glow. He released her, climbing off the bed then pulling her to her feet. He tugged the t-shirt she was wearing over her head and let it drop to the floor. His gaze dropped to her abdomen, then back up to meet her own. "Can I...?" 

Buffy's face lit up in a large smile at his tentative question. "Go for it, papa." 

Slowly, he brought his hand forward and put it over her womb. Buffy watched the play of emotions on his face - amazement, awe, happiness, a little pride and, most importantly, love. Suddenly, he let out a war whoop and grabbed her up in his arms again, spinning them in a circle. When he finally set her on her feet, he tilted up her chin and place the softest, tenderest kiss on her lips she'd ever experienced. 

"I adore you, Buffy," Spike whispered after the kiss. Then his eyes widened comically. "I'm going to be a father." 

"That's what normally happens when two people have a baby," Buffy said, giggling. 

"Me, a bloody dad," he continued. "I think I'm going to heave." 

Buffy snorted, then covered her mouth and nose with her hand. The dumbfounded look on his face changed to excited pride and he bounced across the bed to grab the phone. She turned and arched a brow at him questioningly as he dialed. "Spike, it's quarter to four in the morning. Who are you calling?" 

"‘Lo?" said a sleepy voice at the other end of the phone line. 

"I'm having a baby!" Spike exclaimed. 

"Actually, that would be Buffy," Oz replied tiredly. 

"Who is it?" Willow asked her boyfriend, blinking sleepily up at him as he turned on the light. 

"Spike," Oz answered the red head. 

"But a baby. Me. A bloody father," Spike said into the phone. Buffy came over to the other side of the bed and stood in front of him, giving him a look. "She's so amazingly beautiful." 

"That's great, man," Oz replied. "You do know it's four in the morning." 

"Give me that," Willow said, taking the phone from him. "Spike?" 

"Cor, a baby," Spike said absently, staring at Buffy's belly. 

Buffy took the phone from him. "Hello?"

"Buffy?" 

"Hey, Wills. Sorry about that," Buffy said. 

"‘S-ok. I'm just glad you finally told him," Willow replied. "He sounds excited." 

"He told me he was going to upchuck." 

"Um, I don't know if that's a good thing or not," the red head told her. 

"What?" Oz asked. 

"Spike's reaction was to toss his cookies." 

"Oh." 

"Actually, his first reaction was to faint," Buffy said over the line. Spike leaned forward so he was eye to eye with her navel as if he could peer inside at the baby. She giggled. "Spike, what are you doing?" 

"What is he doing?" Willow asked. 

"I don't know," Buffy replied. "I'm going to hang up now. Sorry Spike called...hey, why did he call you?" 

"He didn't, he called Oz." 

"You're at Oz's?!" Buffy said. "For shame!" 

"I'm being a good girl," Willow told her, then giggled. "Just ask Oz." 

"Willow!" 

"Bye, Buffy," Willow said. 

"Bye." Buffy disconnected and set the phone on the night stand. "Spike, what are you doing?" 

"How does a baby fit in there?" Spike asked, more to himself than to her. 

Buffy rolled her eyes and pushed him up in order to straddle his lap. "It's just one of those mysteries of life." 

"I love you, you know," he said, looking into her hazel eyes. 

"I know," she replied. "And you're not that pathetic."

"Hey!" 

Giggling, Buffy kissed the former vampire, which led to them making love again for the remainder of the night. 

 

*****

Part Twenty-two

 

Spike woke and turned on his side to snuggle with Buffy, but his arm went around air. Opening his eyes, he frowned when he found the Slayer missing from his bed. "Buffy?" 

He turned over and looked towards the bathroom. The door was open and the room empty. Pushing himself to a sitting position, he ran his hand tiredly over his features, then climbed out of bed. *She's probably downstairs eating,* he thought as he slid on a pair of jeans. He smiled to himself when he thought of why she'd be downstairs eating and quickened his step. 

His steps faltered when he found the kitchen empty. "Slayer?" he called out tentatively. No answer. He turned in a slow circle, eyes scanning the immediate area, his brow knitted together. "Slayer?" he called, louder this time. He looked towards the refrigerator, thinking perhaps she went out and left him a note. 

There were no notes on the refrigerator. None. Not even the ones which he'd put up there months before with Joyce's phone numbers or the first note he had received from the Slayer. The letter magnets still proclaimed that he loved Buffy, but there was no message underneath it as there had been that early morning. 

Spike heard the sound of the newspaper hitting the front door. Puzzled at the missing things, he went to retrieve the paper. He opened the front door and squinted at the bright sunlight shining down on his front steps. He stepped into the light to pick up the paper and screamed as his bare skin started to burn. 

Jumping backwards into the house, he looked down at his slightly smoking arms. "BUFFY!" Spike yelled, slamming the door shut. He turned on his heel and sprinted to the basement, hoping she was there. Not only did he not find her, the drawings on the wall were missing as was the one of his sire on the dart board. 

He ran back up the stairs, yanking open the powder room door. No Buffy. Continuing to the second floor, he checked the second bedroom, quickly glanced in the bathroom then ran back into the master bedroom. His eyes darted over the surfaces of the room, noting the fact that there were no candles, no overnight bag, no tuxedo. 

Dread settling over him, he went into the master bathroom and turned on the cold water. He splashed his face several times, then reached behind him to grab the towel of the rod. Straightening, he pressed the towel over his face, wiping downward. That's when he saw...or didn't see...his reflection in the mirror. 

"No," Spike whispered, hitting the light switch. He saw everything in the bathroom, including the towel in his hands, but not himself. Dropping the towel, he touched the mirror in hopes that he was imagining things, but it was solid. Panicking, he slapped his hand over his neck, searching for the pulse that had beat there for months. It was gone. 

"NO!" he yelled, slamming his palm against the mirror, shattering it. The large shards rained down onto the sink, cutting him as it bounced of the hard surface. Dashing back into the bedroom, he scooped up the portable phone and dialed. "Pick up, pick up, pick up." 

"‘Lo?" 

"There's something wrong," Spike said rapidly. "Buffy's not here and I don't have a bloody reflection!" 

"Interesting," Oz said over the phone. 

"Is that all you can say?!" 

"How about who is this?" 

"It's me, Spike," Spike replied. 

"I don't think I know a Spike," Oz said cautiously. 

"Cor, no," he said quietly as he heard the werewolf speak to someone. 

"Hello?" Willow said. 

"Willow?" Spike said. "Do you remember me? Please say you do." 

"Um, yeah. Wh-why are you calling? Do you still want me to do the spell?" Willow asked tentatively, her voice slightly fearful. "I thought you were going to torture Drusilla into loving you again. Unless I got that wrong. Or it didn't work. Didn't it work?" 

"Willow, you know I didn't go back to Brazil," Spike practically pleaded. "And Dru is dead, you sent me a bloody sympathy card!" 

"N-No, I don't think so," Willow replied. "Uh, I have to go now, Spike. Bye." 

The line disconnected and Spike sat there in shock. Willow and Oz, his two good friends, didn't remember him. He had no reflection, no pulse, got burned by the sun. He suddenly clamped his hand on his chest near his neck, looking for the cross necklace Buffy had given him. It was not there. 

Dialing another number, he waited for the woman he thought of as his mum to pick up. "Hello?"

"Joyce, it's Spike," he said hopefully into the phone. 

"Who?" Joyce asked over the line. 

"You don't remember." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. 

"Spike? No, I'm so-...wait, Spike as in Drusilla's Spike?" 

"Yeah," he answered. 

"Wh-What do you want?" Joyce asked fearfully. 

"Nothing," Spike said, trying hard not to give into the tears that were forming behind his closed lids. He hung up and set the phone on the night stand. He sat there for several minutes before deciding on a course of action. 

Two hours later he hit the Welcome to Sunnydale sign, backed up and ran it over again for good measure. 

He pulled into the parking lot of Sunnydale High School, then slumped down in the seat. He lit up his twentieth cigarette and tried to push the horrible feeling in his heart away as he waited for the sun to set. His mind flitted over everything that he clearly remembered happening over the past months - waking up human, becoming friends with Oz, Willow and Joyce, Drusilla's death, kissing Buffy, dancing with Buffy, making love to Buffy, finding out Buffy was pregnant with his child. 

Finally, the sun went down enough that he could get from the car into the school. Walking quickly, he made his way to the library, bursting through the doors to see his friends and the Watchers sitting there, but no Slayer. They stared at him, too surprised to move. "Tell me you bloody remember," he demanded without preamble. 

Willow was first to react, letting out a squeak and jumping from her seat in front of the computer to Giles' office. She came out with a large cross, handing it to Giles who was frozen in the doorway. Oz stood, brandishing a pencil like a stake. Wesley looked confused. 

"Spike," Giles said with menace in his voice. 

Spike let his gaze go from person to person, studying them. All he saw was fear, and he could smell it, too, as well as hear the blood rushing in their veins. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, the world he'd gotten use to belonging in disappearing beneath his feet. "Please no," he said in a hoarse voice. 

The door opened behind him and he heard the beautiful voice of his Slayer. "Hey guys, wha- Spike!" He suddenly found himself shoved up against the counter, stake pressed up to his chest, a furious blond glaring at him. "What are you doing back, Spike?" Buffy demanded. 

The tears that had threatened to fall all day filled his eyes as he looked down at the woman he loved more than life itself. He squeezed his eyes shut, choking back a sob, then opened them as those very tears silently streamed down his cheeks. 

Buffy frowned at him. "What the hell is wrong with you?" 

"You don't remember, either," he stated quietly. Slowly, he brought his hand up to touch her cheek and flinched when the stake was pressed further into his chest as she jerked her head away. 

"Remember what?" Buffy asked with little patience in her voice. 

"Me," Spike answered. 

"Actually, I've been trying to repress," she replied. "But for some reason, it doesn't help if you keep showing up." 

"I can't do this," he said. "I can't bloody do this. I can't go back to the way things were before." 

"Listen, blondie, will you tell me what the hell you want before Giles needs to get out the dust buster?" Buffy growled. 

Tears still streaming down his face, Spike took a deep, unneeded breath and looked her right in the eyes. "I love you," he told her. "Please remember. I need you to remember. I don't want to be a bloody vampire again." 

Buffy just looked at him with confusion written all over her face. "Are you on drugs?" 

Not able to take it anymore, he shoved her away and ran out the library doors. He halfway down the hall when he spun and punched a locker door, denting it. Then he turned and leaned against it before he slid down as the sobs overcame him. "NO!" 

"Spike?" 

"NO!" Spike screamed in anguish, ignoring the Slayer who called to him. 

"Spike!" Buffy yelled, shaking him hard. 

Spike shot straight up, looking wildly around him, his breaths coming in short gasps. Sweat coated his body as he focused on the blond at his side. "Buffy?" 

"Hey, what's wrong?" Buffy asked, concern on her face. 

He grabbed her and pulled her to him in a tight hug, not caring about the awkwardness of their positions. All that mattered was that he was there, in his bedroom, with Buffy. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," he repeated over and over. 

It had only been a nightmare. 

 

 

Part Twenty-three

 

 

Unable to get back to sleep after the nightmare, the couple was down in the kitchen making cookies. Actually, they were making a mess, but the dough tasted good. "I've turned into a bleedin' pansy," Spike said, sprinkling flour on the pastry towel. 

"How's that?" Buffy asked, alternating between decorating the cookies and eating the decorations. 

"Crying all the bloody time, having all these bloody emotions," he replied. "I've even brooded for days on end." 

"No," she said in mock horror. 

"Piss off," he growled back. "I'm no wanker like Angel." 

"No, you are nothing like Angel," Buffy replied. "And you already had all the same emotions, Spike, you just didn't show them." 

Spike was silent as he rolled the dough out, contemplating what she'd said. "You know what else is different?" 

"What?" 

"I haven't bloody killed anyone in months," he told her. Picking up a cookie cutter, he pressed it into the dough. "I haven't had the desire to rip someone's head off and bathe in their blood." 

"Pleasant," Buffy muttered. 

He went on as if she didn't say anything. "I'd wager it's because I don't have the taste for blood anymore. Well, that and no one has annoyed me, yet." 

"I find that hard to believe," she said. 

"It's true," Spike replied. "I go to the grocers before the rooster crows and the humans everywhere else have been bleedin' saints when helping me. The only time I came close was when some brat came to the door while I was in a foul mood, but he had chocolate." 

Buffy laughed, sliding the tray of cookies in the oven. "Chocolate cures what ails ya."

"Then there's you and your chums, all helpful and nice to me. Makes me want to be nice and good and all that rot," he continued. "I'm telling you, I've become a bloody wuss." 

"But a cute wuss," Buffy said. He scowled at her, making her laugh again. "I have a question for you." 

"Ask away," Spike said. 

"Your nightmare," Buffy began. She picked up the green sugar and began sprinkling the cookies. "What was worse - you being a vampire again or me not remembering?" 

"Now that's a loaded question if I ever heard one," he replied. "But I'd have to say being a vampire again." 

Buffy arched her brow. "Really?" 

"Slayer, I loved you for a long time before you knew it," Spike said. "If you suddenly didn't remember all this, but I was human, I'd take my chances on you giving me an opportunity to at least be your friend." 

"Well, you do have the tendency to grow on people now that you're not an annoying, blood sucker," Buffy said. He flicked flour at her. "Hey!" 

"Watch it, pet. Just because you're pregnant with my baby, doesn't mean I'll let get away with talking like that," he growled playfully. 

"You're no fun," she pouted. 

Spike gave her a wicked grin as he set the cookie cutter down. Buffy's eyes grew round as he sauntered over to her, trapping her between himself and the chair. "Are you sure about that, Slayer?" he said in a low voice just before his mouth descended upon hers. 

 

*****

 

Spike and Buffy looked at each other when the doorbell rang. They were snuggled together on the couch, watching a movie after a long day of lovemaking, sleeping and eating, in the Slayer's case. Glancing at the clock as he disentangled himself from the comforter, Spike made his way to the door. 

"Maybe it's more chocolate," Buffy suggested, pulling the blanket up to her nose. He glanced over his bare shoulder at her and rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm hungry." 

"There are cookies on the table by your feet," Spike pointed out as he unlocked the door. 

"They're burned," she whined.

"Then get off your cute arse and get yourself something," he told her. "Do I look like your bloody manservant?" 

"Depends. Do manservants wear frilly aprons?" Buffy asked. 

He scowled at her, then opened the front door. His scowl deepened when he saw who it was. "What do you want?" 

"Buffy," Angel answered, glaring at Spike. He was not happy when he found out that Buffy was at the former vampire's house for the weekend when the emergency arose. He was now even unhappier to see that Spike was only clad in a pair of well-worn jeans which were not buttoned and riding low on his hips. The gold cross around his neck only further perturbed him. "Are you going to let me in?" 

"No," Spike replied, folding his arms over his chest. 

"Spike, who is it?" Buffy asked, not able to see the door from the couch. 

"No one, pet," he replied over his shoulder, not removing his eyes from his sire. 

"Spike, Buffy is needed in Sunnydale," Angel told him sharply. "Now let me in the house." 

"Fine. Come in and close the door behind you," Spike said as he turned and walked back into the great room. He grabbed the remote from the end table and switched off the television as Buffy turned to see who came inside. 

"Angel? What are you doing here?" Buffy asked, blushing because she was only wearing a white tank top, panties and socks. She was glad she was buried under the comforter. 

"You're needed," Angel answered. "Rupert sent me down to pick you up." 

"Why didn't he just call?" Buffy said as she stood, making sure the blanket stayed around her. 

"He did, but there was no answer," he replied. 

"But we've been here the whole...oh!" Buffy blushed deeper. "I'll go and...go." 

Comforter trailing behind her, the Slayer quickly headed up the stairs. "What did you drive?" Spike asked as he watched her hurry up the stairs. 

"Why?" Angel said. 

"Because one, I'm coming with and two, there's no way in bloody hell I'd let her ride on the back of that stupid motorcycle of yours," Spike snapped. 

"Like hell you're coming with," Angel growled. "Buffy doesn't need you." 

"Listen, mate," Spike said in a deadly tone. "That's my woman and my child and I'm going to protect them no matter what, so fuck off!" He turned and stalked up the stairs to get dressed. 

Angel stood staring after him with a dumbfounded expression on his face. He felt as though he'd been hit by a sledgehammer as Spike words ran over and over in his mind. *That's my woman and my child, my child, my child, my child...* 

Upstairs, Buffy exited the bathroom to see Spike shoving both their clothes into her overnight bag. She saw that he was fully dressed and had a pensive look on his face. "Spike, what's wrong?" 

He stopped what he was doing to when she touched his arm. Looking down into her worried face, he sighed and pulled her into a hug. "Nothing, luv. I'm just concerned about this emergency. I don't want you or the baby getting hurt." 

"We won't," Buffy promised. "This is my job, remember? And I'm damn good at it, too." 

Spike chuckled, then gave her a quick kiss on the nose. "That you are, pet." 

 

*****

 

The two hour drive back to Sunnydale was made in silence. Buffy had curled up against Spike in the backseat of Angel's car and was sleeping while the former vampire stared out the window, absently stroking her arm. Angel would shoot fiery daggers with his eyes at Spike every so often, but since he didn't reflect in the rearview mirror, it was rather pointless. 

"We're here, ducks," Spike said quietly as they pulled into the high school parking lot. 

"Good, I have to go to the bathroom," Buffy replied sleepily. "And I'm hungry again." 

"I think I stashed some of those cookies in our bag," he said with a small grin. Buffy rolled her eyes, then got out of the car. 

The trio made there way to the library to find Wesley and Giles waiting for them. The look of relief on the librarian's face made Buffy giggle, knowing it was because her new Watcher must have been driving him up a wall. "I'm here, oh fearless leaders," Buffy said. "Even though I'd much rather still be on the couch watching the rest of True Lies in my underwear and did I just say that out loud?" 

"You-you did," Giles replied, then cleared his throat. "I'm sorry to have to break into your weekend, but Faith has disappeared again and a Slayer was needed." 

"No big," Buffy said, pulling Spike's arms around her waist as she leaned back against him. She could feel his tension fade somewhat at her actions. 

Giles noted what Buffy had done and was glad that it seemed she and Spike were together. After overhearing countless conversations between her and Willow, the one thing that immediately came forward in his mind was, *About time.* The fact that he was at one time a soul-less vampire didn't bother him as much as Angel with his soul did. Perhaps he was just prejudiced against the vampire part. 

"Buffy, it would seem there is a demon of sorts causing havoc, raising the dead and what not," Wesley said. "So far, according to Miss Chase and Mr. Harris, he has turned a party of teenagers into monkeys and is currently amassing a small gaggle of zombies." 

"I hate zombies," Buffy grumbled. "They don't die unless you kill the creator." 

"Yes," Wesley said. "We have ascertained that with Angel's assistance, you should be able to get close enough to-to...well, kill him." 

"Sounds like a plan," she replied, moving out of Spike's arms towards the cage. "What kind of weapons should I use?" 

As the Slayer talked weapons with Giles and Wesley, Spike shifted on his feet before going over to Angel and pulling him aside. "You better not let her get hurt, or I will rip your heart out with my bare hands," he growled. Before the vampire could respond, he turned and stalked over to Buffy and kissed her hard. 

Buffy staggered when he released her, a slightly dazed look in her eyes. "Well," she said, then cleared her throat. "I think I'm ready to kick some demon tail." 

"We shall be right behind you, Buffy," Giles said, packing a bag with more weapons. 

"Ok," Buffy said. She smiled at Spike, then looked at Angel. "Let's go." 

After the two had left the library, Spike spun and kicked the cage. Wesley jumped, but Giles just raised a brow as he put on his jacket. "I say, what was that for?" Wesley asked, nervously wiping his forehead with his handkerchief. 

"I'll explain later, Wesley," Giles said with a small sigh. He shouldered the bag and left the library, Spike right behind him. 

"I shall await your return," Wesley called after them. 

"Pillock," Giles and Spike both said under their breaths. Giles chuckled as he led the way to his ancient car. "We need to stay back unless Buffy needs our assistance. She cannot be distracted by trying to safeguard us as she fights." 

"I can take care of myself," Spike growled. 

"I have no doubt," Giles said as they started towards the cemetery. "However, I'd imagine Buffy would be rather put out if you got yourself hurt. I know she hounds me for bloody hours if I do." 

They arrived at the cemetery to see Buffy and Angel embroiled in battle with several zombies and vampires. Spike grabbed the crossbow from the bag, and before the car even stopped, he was out the door, picking the vampires off with well placed bolts. 

He watched as the zombies were knocked down, only to rise once more. A song drifted through his mind as the Slayer made her way closer to the demon leaning casually against a large, ornate tombstone. *I get knocked down, but I get up again. You're never gonna keep me down.* 

Giles started beating back several of the zombies that had turned their attention towards them and Spike bashed one in the head with the crossbow just as he saw a vampire holding a knife behind Buffy. "Slayer, behind you!" he yelled, ducking under a slow swing and coming up behind a second zombie to crack him across the back of the neck with the metal weapon. 

Buffy spun and shot her leg out in a low sweep, knocking the vampire to the ground. She quickly staked him and turned back to the demon only to see that he was no longer there. Turning, her eyes scanned the immediate area, lashing out with her fist as a zombie came close to her. She grabbed its arm and flung it over her shoulder to the ground. 

Spike shoved a zombie away and turned to see the demon standing in front of him. "Hello, Spike," it said. "Fancy meeting you here." 

The former vampire narrowed his eyes, kicking back with his foot at the approaching zombie. "Do I know you?" 

"No, but I had the pleasure of knowing your beloved Drusilla," it said with a leer. "Such a charming girl. Her screams are very pleasant on the ears." 

Spike saw red as the demon began to laugh. He launched himself at the beast, but it stepped out of the way, using Spike's momentum to send him flying against the side of the car. "You know," the demon said conversationally. "I am rather surprised to see you. Drusilla insisted that if you became mortal again, you would commit suicide. But, seeing as you're standing here before me, I guess she lied." 

"I'm going to eat your intestines for breakfast, you bloody pillock," Spike growled, sending a kick at the demon's chest. 

The demon went on as he blocked Spike's kick. "It makes me wonder what would destroy you." 

"I know what's going to destroy you," Buffy said from behind the demon. It turned to face her. "Me." 

Her hand holding a long, wicked knife shot out towards his chest in a killing blow. It stopped a millimeter from the demon's bare chest, held by an unseen force. "I think that you will find you are mistaken, Slayer," it said, using magick to turn the blade in her hand. 

"NO!" Spike screamed from behind them. He tore around the demon and shoved Buffy away from it, the knife in her hand clattering to the ground. He spun and kicked the beast, connecting with its face. 

The demon began to laugh maniacally, ducking under Spike's next kick. "So that is what would destroy you," it said. The knife shot from the ground to his hand. "A double bonus for me - killing the Slayer thereby killing you. It gives me goosebumps." He raised the knife in his hand. 

Buffy had gotten to her feet in time to see the demon holding a knife in its hand, just like her dream. And just like her dream, she threw herself at Spike, pushing him out of the way, thinking that the blade was meant for him. 

Spike crashed to the ground as the demon let out another delighted, evil laugh. He saw the knife fly from the beast's hand past the Slayer's blocking to embed itself in her stomach. He heard her gasp out in shock and pain and something inside of him snapped. With a vicious roar, he flew at the monster, grabbed its head and twisted with all his strength. A loud snap was heard and suddenly the zombies disappeared as the demon fell dead to the ground. 

He was at Buffy's side in an instant. "Slayer, pet, luv, Buffy," Spike said in a choked voice as he saw her blood covered hands as she held them around the knife sticking out of her. 

Buffy opened her tear filled eyes to see Spike. "I hate my dreams," she whispered, pain wracking her body. 

"Buffy, hold on," Spike said, tears running down his own cheeks. "We'll get you to the infirmary, just you don't die on me." 

She felt her world growing dark, as it did in her dreams. "Spike, I'm glad you came down with a case of humanitis," she told him, her voice small and weak. 

"Shh," Spike said, brushing her hair off her face. 

"I love you," Buffy said, blinking rapidly. Then everything went black. 

"I love you, Slayer," he choked out as the former Watcher pulled the car up. 

Angel had finally killed off the remaining vampires and had just arrived at their side in time to hear Buffy and Spike's words. But he did not hesitate as he helped get the unconscious Slayer into the car. 

The trip to the hospital was fraught with tension, Spike's pain filled voice whispering to Buffy as he applied pressure to her wound to staunch the bleeding the only sound. Giles drove right up to the emergency entrance and leapt from the car to run inside and get assistance. Angel opened the back door and, between him and Spike, got the injured Slayer onto the gurney. The former vampire was stopped at the swinging emergency room doors and Angel had to physically push him down into a chair. 

Waiting was agonizing for the trio, each of them loving the petite blond in their own way. Giles called Joyce, who arrived shortly thereafter and immediately drew Spike into her arms, comforting him. Xander and Cordelia appeared, as did Oz and Willow, each having been called by the librarian. 

"Mrs. Summers, Mr. Giles?" a doctor asked, approaching the worried group. 

"How is she? Is she ok?" Spike said rapidly, grabbing the doctor by his white coat. 

"Spike," Joyce put a hand on his arm. "You have to let him speak first." 

Spike let go, taking a step back from the doctor. "Is she ok?" he asked again, his voice tinged with fear. 

"She going to be fine," the doctor told them. "As will the baby. The knife missed her vital organs, which was very lucky. Family will be allowed to visit with her until she is cleared from ICU." 

"Thank you," Giles said as the group collectively breathed a sigh of relief. The doctor nodded and walked off. 

Spike closed his eyes and sent up a prayer of thanks to a god he hadn't believed in for a long time. He opened them when he felt someone tug on his arm. "Come on," Joyce said, giving him a small smile. "Let's sneak you back there." 

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

"You are a bloody pain in the arse, you know that Slayer?" Spike said as he lifted her feet and put the pillow she requested under them. 

"Hey, don't talk to me like that," Buffy replied. "I might get mad and make you go get me some ice cream. Ooh, ice cream. That sounds good." 

Due to the Slayer's enhanced healing, Buffy was out of the hospital in no time. Graduation came and went with no major problems save the Mayor's ascension. Faith had been killed by him for failure to destroy Buffy, but between the Slayer, her Watcher, her former Watcher, the vampire, the former vampire, the mother, the werewolf, the Witch, the Zeppo and the prom queen they were able to defeat him. 

Now Buffy was in her seventh month of pregnancy and college would be starting soon. As promised back when Spike had been sick, she visited him every day while in LA with her dad for the summer. In reality, it was closer to her visiting her dad while she stayed with Spike. 

"We have mint chocolate chip, pistachio, praline, vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, raspberry, cookies and creme, chocolate chip cookie dough, hot fudge, peanut butter cup and chunky monkey," Spike rattled off, giving her a smug grin. 

Buffy giggled. "Chocolate, please." 

"Chocolate, coming right up," he said, leaving the bedroom. Buffy sighed happily, her hands resting on her very swollen belly. She giggled again when she remembered the look on Spike's face when the baby kicked after their lovemaking session. After close to three months of feeling that very thing, he was still amazed. 

"Here you go, pet," Spike said as he came back into the room, holding a bowl and spoon in his hands. "I put some of those decorations you like so much on top." 

"You're sweet," she replied, taking the bowl from him without looking. She held out her hand for the spoon and growled at him when he proceeded to play with it rather than give it to her. "Gimme that." 

"What do you say?" he asked, grinning. 

"Now." 

Spike chuckled and handed it to her as he sat on the edge of the bed. His heart was hammering in his chest as he watched her. Unconsciously, he wiped his hands nervously on his jeans. 

Buffy was about to dig into the ice cream when she froze, her eyes growing huge. She looked up at him, then back at the dish, then up at him again. 

"Well?" Spike asked. She squealed in reply, quickly setting the bowl aside to awkwardly throw herself at him. He grabbed her up in a passionate kiss, holding her as close to him as he could, wanting to never let her go. 

On the bed beside them, the diamond ring sank a little further into the melting ice cream. 

 

End


End file.
